


A New Future

by Dawn Cunningham (Delta_Dawn)



Series: Highlander Alternate Universe [1]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:12:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7150706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delta_Dawn/pseuds/Dawn%20Cunningham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the first in a series of 6 stories dealing with an alternate universe in Highlander - The Series. The basic premise is that Richie disappeared after witnessing the fight with Slan Quince. Because of this, Tessa is still alive when Richie returns 3 years later, a new immortal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Future

A New Future by Dawn Cunningham 

I wrote this story a long time ago. Since the Highlander fanfic archive has disappeared, I'm starting to post my stories on other sites. 

Disclaimers: 

Most of the characters mentioned in the story belong to Rysher. I'm just borrowing them and not getting paid for it. 

Do not post or publish this story anywhere else, without my express permission. Feel free to share it with others as long as the disclaimers remain intact. 

Warnings: 

This story is an alternate universe. The nature of this new universe is explained at the beginning of the story. 

************ 

A New Future by Dawn Cunningham 

"What about the boy? He'll need watching," Connor MacLeod said as he clutched at his still-healing chest. Slan Quince's barbed missile had done a lot of damage. 

Duncan MacLeod looked up the hill at the half-concealed teenager. "I know. I will," he promised. 

And he meant to keep his promise - he really did. Unfortunately, by the time he got back from the island, Richie Ryan had disappeared. Duncan searched for a while - even went to the police to see if the teenager had been arrested again - but finally he gave up. 

And the future changed forever. 

Joe Scanlon never got a chance to con Richie into believing he was his father. Instead, he became a horrid example of what happened when you stole money from Mrs. Gustavson. Clinch broke every bone in the man's hands, leaving him crippled for life. 

Gary Correll's death remained a mystery and Kiem Sun continues to work on his mind control drug. 

Felicia lost her head to Duncan MacLeod because there was no teenager to plead for her life. 

Duncan accompanied Tessa Noel into the courthouse when she went to pay for her traffic tickets and was able to get her out safely when the gunfire started. Others weren't so lucky. All the hostages were killed by Bryan Slade and his men. 

Nikki was killed while trying to get away from the drug dealers. Her daughter became a ward of the state and was put in an orphanage. Alexei Voshin never had to challenge Duncan. 

Walter Reinhardt kidnapped Tessa in place of Richie. The outcome was the same and he lost his head. 

The Scalper struck several more times before the police found him. Duncan refused to let Tessa be the bait since he had no way of making sure she would be safe. 

Gabriel Piton continues to design clothes for beautiful women. No one ever connected him with the death of Cynthia Hampton or Maya. 

Duncan and Tessa returned to Seacouver while Duncan hunted for the men responsible for killing Darius. Because Richie wasn't there, they never met Greta in the bar. The Scot never asked Tessa to marry him and she was still kidnapped. Duncan had to wait for the phone call before he knew where to find her. Fortunately, Pallin Wolf got too confident after wounding the Highlander, and Duncan was able to disarm and kill him. 

He didn't want to let Tessa go home alone, so he kept her by his side while he downloaded the computer files. The young punk that would have killed her was long gone by the time they left the house. 

Tessa didn't die. The antique store wasn't sold. Duncan never bought the dojo, and Charlie DeSalvo eventually filed for bankruptcy. 

Annie Devlin successfully assassinated the ambassador she was after because Duncan and Richie weren't around. She never even knew the Scot was in the same town. She fled back to Ireland with her husband after the job was done. 

Mako took Laura Daniels back home for a trial. She was convicted of murdering her husband and sentenced to life in prison. 

Duncan never gave Anne Lindsey a second look since he was still deeply in love with Tessa. Brian Cullen never knew Duncan lived in the area. He escaped from the hospital after the accident he caused, and headed south to California. John Kirrin continues to collect funds and distributes them to needy organizations. The Highlander saw the article about a man coming back to life after being dead, but he never investigated. 

When Garrick tried to invade Duncan's mind, it was Tessa who convinced him to go to the island for a while. Afraid that he would hurt her, Duncan agreed. Garrick eventually gave up and went back to Europe where he underwent treatment with Sean Burns. 

Duncan never developed a close friendship with Joe Dawson. When Joe found out Horton was siphoning off Watcher funds, Horton still tried to kill him. There was no Richie there to save him this time. Fortunately, the wound wasn't fatal and, after a long hospital stay, Joe recovered. The Watcher organization gathered enough evidence to link Horton to the shooting and brought him before a Watcher Tribunal. Horton was sentenced to death, and was shot the next morning. 

The first fight between Kalas and Duncan ended the same way, except this time it was Tessa instead of Anne that saw the Scot die a mortal death. Since Tessa already knew what Duncan was, there was no reason for him to flee to Paris. They met again, and this time, Duncan took his head. 

Since Duncan didn't go to Paris, he never met Methos. Kalas was already dead so Fitzcairn didn't lose his head. Kristov continues to run his Mafia from Paris. Ernst Daimler killed Father Bernard because the priest could not find Duncan MacLeod. 

And that brings us to the current time - July, 1995. 

***** 

Duncan selected a bottle of his best wine and set out wine glasses while he waited for Tessa to rejoin him in the living room. She'd whispered that she was going to slip into something more comfortable before disappearing toward their bedroom. Ten more minutes passed before he decided that he'd been patient long enough. He picked up the wine and glasses and strode down the hallway. 

He found his lover reclining on the bed, wearing a blue silk teddy. Candlelight flickered from every surface in the room. Duncan leaned against the doorway and took in the sight for a moment. 

"I thought you were going to slip into something more comfortable?" he asked as he finally moved closer. 

Tessa ran a hand over the mattress. "Can you think of anything more comfortable than our bed?" she replied with a seductive smile. 

He placed the wine and glasses on the nightstand before starting to unbutton his shirt. "And what would you have done if I hadn't come looking for you?" 

She shrugged and gave him a mischievous smile. "I would have thought of something." 

Duncan slowly slid out of his shirt, loving how Tessa's eyes followed his every move. He reached for the wine, then felt the touch of another Immortal. He waited a moment, hoping it would fade away, hoping that the other Immortal was just passing by. 

No such luck. The sense of the other remained strong. Duncan sighed. "Stay here," he said as he turned away. 

"Duncan? What is it?" Tessa asked as she sat up in bed. 

"Another Immortal," he replied. He no longer tried to hide them from her. It seemed like there'd been a constant stream of them in the last few years. Hopefully, it was a friend, but he wasn't expecting anyone. 

He hurried out to the living room and retrieved his katana before heading out to Tessa's workshop. From there he debated which way to go, then decided to check out the back alley. Most Immortals wouldn't risk breaking into another's house. They preferred to do battle in alleys or deserted buildings. 

Duncan cautiously opened the back door, holding his sword up, ready to defend himself. A movement in the shadows across the alley drew his attention and he slowly exited the building. A chill breeze reminded him of his shirt, still on the bedroom floor, and he wished he'd taken the time to put it back on. 

"I'm Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," he said, as he raised his katana into an attack position. 

"Yeah, I've heard that before," came a sarcastic reply. "And I suppose you still want to cut off my head, too." 

The figure moved away from the other building. Even in the dim light cast by the street lamp, Duncan could see he wasn't carrying a sword. 

"It's what we do," the Highlander said, slightly confused by the other's response and lack of sword. 

"Is it? Well, I have other ideas." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun, keeping his distance from the Scot. 

"Guns are against the rules," Duncan said, fighting down the anger filling him. 

"Rules? What rules? Look, I've seen what you can do with that sword. I kinda like my head right where it is. The gun is just a little... protection to ensure it stays there." 

Duncan hesitated for a moment before lowering the katana. Maybe this was a new Immortal. One who didn't understand The Game. But how could he have seen him in a sword fight? "Who are you? And why did you come here?" 

"Richie Ryan - remember me?" 

It took a few moments before the name sunk in. "You're the kid who tried to rob us a few years ago." The boy he'd promised to keep an eye on. Except he had failed, and now the boy was immortal. He tried to see the other's face, but the light was too dim. "You died recently, didn't you?" he asked. 

Silence filled the alley for the longest time. "Yeah, I died," Richie finally admitted. "That's why I'm here. I want you to tell me how come I'm not still dead." 

"What makes you think I would know?" 

"Because I saw you pull that other guy out of the water. He should have been dead from that... that thing in his chest. He should have been dead from being underwater for that long. Hell, the fall alone should have killed him. But you didn't seem overly concerned when you pulled him out. Anyone else would have rushed him to the hospital, but you didn't. So, I figured you could explain it to me." 

"It's a long story. Why don't we go inside and I'll tell you all about it?" Duncan suggested. 

"Don't treat me like I'm an idiot! I'm not going anywhere with you. I just want to know why I'm still alive!" His voice rose on the last bit, giving a hint of hysteria. 

"It's safe," Duncan promised. "I won't try to hurt you." 

"Right. Just like you didn't hurt that big guy with the face mask. No thanks." 

"Slan Quince challenged *me*. I would have been willing to walk away from the fight if he had been. Instead, he threatened Tessa, so he had to be dealt with. This isn't the same thing. There are things you have to know, and I don't intend to talk about them out here in the open." 

"I still don't trust you. I tell you what. Meet me at that warehouse where you were practicing with Sir Lancelot tomorrow morning at nine. You can explain everything to me there." He paused for a moment. "And come alone." 

It took a moment for Duncan to figure out who Sir Lancelot was, but he finally decided Ryan must be referring to Connor. Somehow the kid must have seen them practicing in the old warehouse he owned. The Highlander sighed. "All right, but there's one thing you should know right now. When you came here, you felt something, right?" 

"Yeah." Suspicion filled Richie's voice. 

"Well, if you feel it again before we meet tomorrow, head for the nearest church or graveyard. You'll be safe there." 

"Safe from what?" 

"From others like us. Not all of us would stop to explain things to you. You could end up losing your head." 

"What is this thing with heads?" Richie asked. 

"I'll explain it tomorrow - unless you want to change your mind and come inside now?" 

"I don't think so. Tomorrow. And remember - come alone." Richie started backing up, keeping the gun aimed at Duncan. He finally turned and ran down the alley. 

A few moments later, the Scot heard the sound of a motorcycle starting up. He waited until the noise of its engine died away before going back inside. Tessa was waiting for him in the living room. 

"Are you all right?" she asked. 

"I'm fine. We didn't fight." Duncan hugged her. "Do you remember that kid who broke in here a few years ago?" 

Tessa nodded after a moment. 

"He's one of us now. He'll need training." 

"Just like Felicia needed training?" 

"It's not the same. I know Ryan wasn't an Immortal the first time - though I did sense he would become one of us. He had to have died recently. Felicia was only pretending to be a new Immortal." 

"That doesn't mean that he won't try something. Be careful, Duncan." 

"I will. Let's go back to bed. I'm meeting him tomorrow morning." 

They tried, but were unsuccessful at recovering their earlier mood. The unexpected visitor had put a damper on the evening's activity. Duncan knew he was being unreasonable, but he couldn't help blaming Ryan for ruining the evening. 

***** 

Duncan parked the T-bird outside the warehouse the next morning and climbed out of the car. As he approached the open doorway, he sensed the touch of another Immortal. He paused to make sure his katana was easily accessible, though he didn't pull it out. While there was a chance that this was a trap, he didn't want to risk scaring Richie off. 

Fortunately, the only other occupant of the warehouse was Ryan. Duncan headed over to the mound of sand the young man was sitting on, but before he got very close, Richie jumped to his feet and shoved his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket. The Scot expected him to pull out the gun, but the young man's hands remained in his pockets. 

Duncan took that as a good sign. He had a lot of information to pass on to Ryan and the thought of doing it at gunpoint hadn't been appealing. 

"Hello, Richie," he said as he studied the younger man. 

Three years had made a lot of difference. Gone was the curly hair, replaced by a buzz cut. The face was leaner, as was his whole body, although it was difficult to tell when he had a jacket on. He looked like someone who'd skipped a few meals. He couldn't judge Ryan's physical condition, but that could wait until later. First would come the explanations. 

The biggest change was the eyes. Three years earlier, they had still retained some innocence and had easily reflected Richie's emotions. Now they seemed old and distant. Duncan had a feeling that life hadn't been easy for the young thief and mentally chastised himself for not trying harder when he had searched for him. Things might have been so much better for Ryan if Duncan hadn't failed in his duty three years ago. 

"Why don't you make yourself comfortable," Duncan said, pointing back to the sand pile. He sat down on a nearby wooden crate. Once Ryan had followed his move, he began telling him about Immortals. The younger man listened intently, but never asked any questions. 

It took a while to get through the entire spiel about The Game, the Rules, the Prize, holy ground, swords and Quickenings. Duncan left out the Watchers. The last thing Richie needed was to know that someone would be following him around and documenting his life. When he finished, the Scot waited for Ryan to digest all the information. 

"So," Richie finally said, "I can live forever as long as no one takes my head. And no one can do that on holy ground. Right?" 

"That's right," Duncan replied, trying to not remember Darius and how he'd died on holy ground. "No Immortal will fight on holy ground." 

"Why didn't you take Sir Lancelot's head? Isn't that the whole idea? To be the last one?" 

Duncan sighed and shook his head. "Not necessarily. I don't want to win The Prize. I just want to make sure that one of the bad guys don't end up doing it instead. Connor - Sir Lancelot as you call him - was my teacher and my kinsman. There's no reason to take his head." 

Richie reached into his pocket and pulled out his gun. "What's to stop me from shooting you, then chopping off your head? Won't I get your Quickening that way?" 

"There's nothing to stop you," Duncan said, wondering if maybe he'd made a big mistake. "And, yes, you would still get my Quickening, but only a man with no honor would do something like that. Somehow, I don't think you fit that description. You kept your word and told no one about what you saw that night you broke into my store." 

"Who would've believed me?" Richie asked sarcastically, gun still in hand. "The cops sure didn't the first time I tried to tell them. I can just imagine what they would have done if I'd reported what I saw that night on Soldier's bridge. They would have hauled me away and locked me up in a padded cell. It had nothing to do with honor." He almost spat out the last word. 

"If you say so, but I think you're wrong. I think you do have a sense of honor, whether you want to admit it or not. So why don't you just put that gun away?" Duncan kept his gaze locked on the younger man. 

Richie stared right back, defiantly raising the gun and pointing it at Duncan. It seemed like an eternity before he lowered it and shoved it back in his pocket. "I guess I'll try it your way for a while." 

"Good. The last thing you need is to get a reputation for being a cheat. Somehow, that information always seems to get around to other Immortals. The next thing you know, you have every headhunter in the world after you. That's why Connor was here - he was hunting Slan. Trust me on this. You don't want someone like him after you." 

"So all I have to do is follow all those rules you gave me? Then no one will be after me?" 

"No one with any sense of honor would challenge you, but that doesn't mean you won't get challenged. There are those who are only strong enough to fight the young ones. You must never let your guard down around other Immortals until you know them well." 

"Great, just great," Richie said as he jumped to his feet. He began to pace around. "I can't use a sword and I can't use my gun. So how am I supposed to protect myself? I can't hide on holy ground forever." 

"You learn to use a sword. Until you become proficient with one, you must count on your teacher to protect you. If you sense another Immortal, either go to your teacher or retreat to holy ground. That's the way it's always been." 

"So all I have to do is find someone who will teach me. How am I supposed to do that? Run around asking any Immortal I meet if they'll do it? What if I ask the wrong one?" 

"I will teach you," Duncan said, although that really hadn't been his intention when he came here this morning. He'd planned on calling Connor to see if he would be willing to take on a new student. 

Richie turned and stared at him. "Why?" he finally asked. "I'm just some street punk who tried to rob you. Why would you teach me?"

"It's the honorable thing to do," Duncan replied, not knowing exactly why he'd offered to teach the young man. Richie's face tightened and the Scot felt like somehow he'd failed again. 

"You're willing to teach me because you think it's your duty," the young man stated coldly. "Well, don't put yourself out. I'm sure I can find someone else." 

"I'm not putting myself out," Duncan insisted, although he knew it was a lie. It would require a lot of time away from the antique store. Tessa wasn't going to appreciate cutting back her time with her sculptures to mind it in his place. "Understand this. It will be hard work. If you're not willing to give it 100%, then don't expect me to." 

"Don't worry about me. It's *my* head I'm trying to protect." 

"Good, then we'll start tomorrow. This place will work as well as any other. Be here at seven and be prepared to work out. Understand?" 

"Yeah, I understand," Richie snapped back. 

"By the way, how did you die the first time?" 

"Does it matter?" Richie asked defensively. 

"Not really. What you did before now and what you do after we part company is your own business, but while I'm your teacher you'll keep your nose clean. No breaking the law. No run-ins with the cops. Understand?" "Yeah, you want me to be a Boy Scout. Got it." Sarcasm seemed to drip from the words. "Wouldn't want to give Teacher a bad name." 

Duncan resisted the urge to shake the younger man. "Wrong. I don't want you to draw attention to yourself. It's part of being immortal." 

"Sure. Whatever you say." 

Duncan wondered what he'd just gotten himself into. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, deciding not to push it any further today. 

"Seven o'clock. Right." 

Richie made no move to leave the warehouse, so Duncan left on his own. He sat in the T-bird for several long moments waiting for the younger man to follow him out. When he didn't appear, the Scot gave up and headed for home. 

***** 

To say Tessa was annoyed at Duncan's news was to put it mildly. 

"Duncan, how could you agree to such a thing without talking to me?" she asked as she paced around the office angrily. "I need to concentrate on my art - I have a show coming up, remember?" 

The Highlander had forgotten that little detail, but he wasn't going to admit it. "Of course I remember. We'll just open the shop in the afternoons for a while." 

"The shop can't pay for itself if it is only open half a day. And what will we do for new merchandise? Will you close the shop every time there is an auction?" 

"Okay, so we'll hire someone to help out part-time." 

"I have a better idea. Send him to Connor - let him teach what's-his- name. You sent Michelle Webster away to be taught by someone else, so why not him?" 

"His name is Richie Ryan. Tess, sending him away right now is probably the worst thing I could do. I think he'd take it as rejection. Michelle was a different story. She was already confident, plus she really needed a female teacher. I - *we* - have a chance to help this kid out. He's already had a bad start." 

"Yes, he is a thief. Do you know what he has done in the last three years? What do you know about him, Duncan? Maybe he has killed someone already. You said he has a gun - maybe he has used it before." 

"All the more reason to help him now. He needs to be shown that there's a better life out there for him. If I send him away, who knows how he'll turn out. *We* can make a difference." 

"*You* can make a difference," Tessa replied. "I don't want him around me at all." 

"Tessa, you haven't even met him yet. You might find that you'll like him." Duncan didn't really think so, but it wouldn't hurt to try. 

"And I don't intend to meet him, Duncan. He is part of that ridiculous Game of yours, and I want nothing to do with it or him." 

Duncan sighed, knowing he'd lost this battle. Sooner or later, Tessa was bound to meet Richie, but he would worry about that when the time came. 

"I'll put an ad in the paper tomorrow," he said. "It shouldn't take long to find someone to help in the shop. Until then, I'll work with Richie in the early morning, then after the shop closes in the afternoon. It will work out, Tessa." 

She sighed and came over to hug him. "I am not trying to be difficult, Duncan. I know you feel you have to do this. It is just that sometimes I wish your Game would go away and leave us alone." 

Duncan returned the hug. "It isn't going to do that, but I will try to keep it as far away from you as possible." 

***** 

Duncan returned to the warehouse the next morning. He was pleased when he felt the Immortal presence. Ryan was on time - that was a good sign. He went around to the trunk of the T-bird and pulled out a sword case that contained a braided katana. It wasn't a great blade, but it would give Richie something to practice with. 

He headed inside and found the young man standing tensely in the middle of the warehouse. He had on his denim jacket, a blue T-shirt, black jeans, and boots. 

"I thought I told you to be ready to work out," Duncan said, slightly annoyed at the other man's attire. 

"I *am* ready. I'm here, aren't I?" 

"I meant your clothes." Duncan gestured towards his more sensible attire of sweat pants, tank top, sweatshirt and tennis shoes. 

"Well, excuuuuuse me. I figured since this was my normal attire, I needed to learn to use a sword while I was wearing it." 

"There's more to your training than just learning to use a sword. You need to work on building up your upper body strength as well as your stamina. You'll find it hard to run three miles in those boots." 

Richie smirked. "I don't know about that. I've done it before." 

"Well, you're not going to do it here. Tomorrow be in sweats and tennis shoes. Understand?" 

"Yes, Master. Anything you say, Master." Richie gave him a low mocking bow. 

Duncan clenched his teeth for a moment to keep from snarling at the younger man. "Let's talk about the training schedule," he plunged on. "Starting tomorrow, we'll focus on stretching exercises from six to seven, followed by two hours of sword training. I'll give you a list of other exercises for you to do after that which should take you another two or three hours. I'll have to go back to the store. I'll be back by six in the evening and we'll work until nine. How does that sound?" 

"It sounds awful! You're joking - right?" 

"No, I'm not. Once I hire someone to help in the shop, we can set up longer training sessions." 

"Give me a break! If I wanted to spend my entire life working out, I would have enlisted!" 

Duncan moved closer to the young man. "I thought you wanted to keep your head," he said in a menacing tone. 

Richie scowled at his teacher. "I do! I just want to have a life, too!" 

"You'll have plenty of time for a life later. For now, you need to learn how to protect yourself." 

"Fine. Let's get started. How long is this death camp going to run, anyway?" 

Duncan shrugged. "It depends on how fast you learn. The sooner you learn, the sooner you can be on your own." 

"Now *that's* incentive. Where do we start?" 

"With stretching exercises - to help limber you up." Duncan slipped off his sweatshirt and demonstrated the moves. Richie took off his jacket and tried to copy them. 

For the next forty minutes, Duncan took the young man through a series of exercises, studying him the entire time. Richie was fairly limber, but didn't appear to have a lot of upper body strength. The T-shirt fit him loosely, but didn't hide the fact that the younger Immortal was all skin and bones. 

"All right," Duncan finally said. "Let's see what you can do with a sword." He went to the case he'd brought in, and pulled the katana out of it. He presented it, hilt first, to Richie. 

The young man took it into his hands, backing off to swing it around. The Scot watched the movements, checking to see if the balance and length were correct. In a sudden movement, Richie swung around and placed the sword against Duncan's neck. 

"It would be awfully easy to take your head right now," he said with a smirk on his face. 

"You think so?" Duncan replied, even as his foot swung around to knock Richie off his feet. A second kick sent the sword flying through the air and, a moment later, he had the sword in his hand. He placed it against the young man's neck. "Now then, you were saying?" 

"I wasn't going to do it!" Richie protested. "I just wanted to see what you would do." 

"Well, now you know. Lesson number one. Watch your opponent at all times. Don't let your guard down just because you think you have the advantage. And your sword isn't your only weapon." 

"Sounds like at least three lessons," Richie quipped as Duncan backed away. 

"You're right. See how much you've learned already?" 

Richie rolled his eyes. "Now what, Teach?" 

Duncan handed the katana back to the young man before retrieving his own. He took Richie through a series of parries, cuts, and lunges, stopping often to correct his stance or his grip on the sword. By the time he called it quits, he could see the tremors in Ryan's arms whenever he tried to hold the sword steady. 

His final lesson dealt with how to clean the sword. Duncan retrieved his sweat shirt and pulled a piece of paper from the pocket. "I have to go. Here's a list of exercises you need to do before you're finished for the morning. The first column is how many repetitions you should be doing now. I'll be back here by six tonight." 

Richie took the paper and studied it. "What if I can't do this many?" 

"Do the best you can. Keep track of how many reps you do on each exercise. You need to increase the number until you can easily do the amount in the second column. Any questions?" 

"Yeah, did you used to work for Hitler?" 

Duncan didn't bother to answer. "I'll see you later, Richie." He headed for the door where he paused and turned around. "You did really well today," he said. He didn't miss the smile that the other Immortal tried to hide. Maybe he could break through Ryan's attitude after all. 

***** 

Duncan returned to the shop and took a quick shower before opening for the day. The next thing he did was to call the newspaper and place a 'help wanted' ad. Tessa came to join him in the office. 

"So how did your first lesson go?" she asked. 

Duncan struggled to hide his smile. "I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with Richie." 

"I was just trying to make conversation," Tessa said haughtily. "You don't need to tell me anything if you don't want to." 

Duncan reached out and grabbed her hand as she started past him. "It was fine. Richie has an attitude problem, but I think I can get past that. He's a quick study, though he really needs to work on his stamina." 

"So maybe it will not take long to train him then?" A hopeful look crossed her face. 

"Maybe." He refused to commit himself any further than that. He really didn't want to explain to Tessa that training a new Immortal could take a very long time. 

She returned to her workshop with a smile on her face, while he felt like he'd been lying to her. Throughout the day, his mind kept returning to his two biggest problems - making Tessa more accepting of the situation, and getting past Richie's smart-ass attitude. By the time he closed the shop, he wasn't any closer to a solution for either of them. 

He returned to the warehouse and found Richie attired in a set of well- worn sweat clothes. After doing stretches, he started teaching him some basic martial arts moves. 

***** 

A pattern developed over the next week. Every morning Duncan rose long before Tessa so that he could meet with Richie for training. Three hours of exercises and sparring, then it was home again to run the shop. Every evening he would return to the warehouse for other types of training, usually involving martial arts. 

One week turned into two, then into three. Duncan felt like he never spent any time with Tessa anymore. He'd had several people apply for the sales clerk job, but hadn't found one that he would even consider hiring. Between gum-chewing, unsuitable attire, foul language, or lack of basic math skills, each applicant had been unacceptable. The few that could handle the job couldn't work the necessary hours. 

Duncan woke early one morning at the end of the third week, but his mind refused to let him go back to sleep. He gave a slight sigh and rolled onto his side. Richie's training wasn't going very well. By this time, his stamina should have been improving, but it wasn't. He couldn't practice for long before his arms started trembling. Duncan had a feeling that the young Immortal wasn't doing the required exercises every day. 

As for his attitude, it hadn't improved, either. Richie would either make sarcastic remarks or he would remain distant. The only good thing was that he was always at the warehouse waiting for the older Immortal. If he hadn't been serious about his training, he probably would have found excuses to be late all the time. 

Duncan had even pushed him one night, relentlessly dumping him onto the floor. He'd hoped the young man would lose his temper, thinking it might somehow clear the air between the two of them. If anything, it had only made things worse. Ryan had only seemed to grow more distant and despondent after that. 

Duncan didn't know what to do. He'd always managed to develop a close relationship with his other students, but Richie refused to allow one to develop. He wouldn't answer any personal questions, and never asked any himself. The Scot finally decided to let the young man keep his distance. He'd teach him what he could, then wish him good luck. After that, they'd probably never see each other again. 

He finally got out of bed and took a long, hot shower, trying to figure out how to fix his own attitude. He felt like he was failing miserably - something he was unaccustomed to. Was the problem with himself or was it with Richie? It had been too long since he'd had a student - unless he counted Felicia. She'd picked up on things so quickly, but that was because she already knew what she was doing. Was he expecting too much, too soon, from Ryan? 

With a sigh, he shut off the water. He would just have to hold on to his patience. Try to find some way to relate to a modern-day Immortal. Maybe he should invite him over for dinner. It might help Richie see him as a real person instead of the teacher from hell. 

*****

When Duncan arrived at the warehouse, he found Richie waiting for him as usual. What was unusual was the young Immortal's attire. Instead of the customary sweat clothes, he was wearing the same outfit he'd had on the first day. 

"What's going on?" Duncan asked, pointing at the jeans. "I thought we covered this already." 

Richie shrugged. "I thought about just leaving a note, but I decided to tell you in person. I'm moving on and I need to know if you want your sword back. I don't want you telling the cops that I stole it." 

Duncan stared at the young man in disbelief. "What? You think you know everything after three weeks? You think you can take on anyone who comes after your head?" 

"No, it just means this isn't working." 

"What isn't working?" He struggled to keep the anger out of his tone. "Do you think I'm being too hard on you? Do you think you can find another teacher who will take it easy on you? Is the training schedule too difficult for you? Or are you just afraid to put forth a little effort?" Duncan knew he'd hit a nerve there when Richie's face flushed with color. "Well, let me tell you something, taking it easy won't keep you from losing your head!" 

"I know it won't! I keep telling you I'm not an idiot! And this has nothing to do with how hard or difficult your training is. It's just time to admit that I'm no good at this and I never will be." He shouldered past the older man, heading for the door. 

Duncan grabbed his arm and spun him back around. "And you decided this after only three weeks? Based on what?" He paused and took a deep breath, fighting down his anger. "Richie, you *can* be good at this. Just give it a little more time." 

Richie shook his head as he tried to free his arm. "It won't work." 

Duncan refused to let go. "Why not?" he asked, knowing his frustration was starting to show. 

The young Immortal turned his gaze to the floor and didn't answer. 

The Scot quickly decided to push Ryan to see if he could find out what was really going on. "I think I know what the real truth is," he said. 

Richie turned startled eyes to the older man. 

"You're a quitter," Duncan continued. "You don't have the guts or the stamina to see something through to the end." 

Once again the young man's face filled with color. "That's not true!" 

"Then prove it! Stay here and continue your training!" 

"I can't!" Richie almost shouted the words. 

"Why *not*?" Duncan grabbed both sides of Richie's jacket and pulled him closer. "Tell me the truth!" he growled. The young Immortal struggled to pull away, but couldn't break free. 

"Tell me, Richie!" 

"All right!" the young man blurted out. "I'll tell you! I can't live this way anymore!" 

Duncan's grip loosened for a moment as he stared at the other man in surprise. "I don't understand." 

Richie managed to free himself and backed up several steps. "I'm broke! Do you understand that?" he shouted. "I've tried to live by your rules, but I can't do it anymore!" 

The Scot shook his head in puzzlement. "No, I still don't understand. What do the rules have to do with being broke? And if you're broke, why didn't you just get a job?" 

The young Immortal rolled his eyes before glaring at Duncan. "When? Other than a few hours in the afternoon and overnight, you've got me constantly working out. How am I supposed to get a job? I thought about going back to my other... line of work, but you want me to be a Boy Scout like you. The way I see it, I've got two choices - starve or stop training with you." 

An awful suspicion crossed Duncan's mind. "Richie, where have you been living?" 

The young Immortal sighed and looked away. "I've been living here. I can't afford a room. What little money I had I spent on food, but it didn't go very far. I'm tired of being hungry all the time and I'm tired of living in a warehouse with no heat, no electricity and no running water." 

Duncan didn't know what to say. How had he missed something so obvious? Why hadn't he realized that Richie didn't have any money? It explained so much. The lack of stamina and the muscle tremors. The fact that he was always here ahead of time. All the signs had been there, but he'd been too blind to see. Even the gauntness of the young man's face should have given him some indication. 

"I'm sorry. I should have thought of how you would support yourself, and you should have spoken up earlier. Starving was *not* part of the training schedule." 

Richie shrugged. "I wasn't sure. Anyway, it's been great. Thanks heaps. See you around some day." He turned and headed for the door again. 

"Richie, wait! There's no reason for you to leave. We can work out a solution." 

The young man paused and looked back suspiciously. "How?" 

"Let me think for a moment." Duncan paced around for a few moments trying to decide what to do. "All right, here's what we'll do. For now, you can come stay at my place. At least that way you'll have a bed to sleep in and enough to eat." 

"I don't need your charity!" 

"From where I'm standing, it looks like you do," Duncan snapped back. He paused and took a deep breath. "If your pride is getting in the way, you can help out around the place." 

"Doing what?" 

"Oh, like helping unpack shipments, maybe do a little cleaning up." 

"I can do that - but just until I get a job. Then I'll get a place of my own," Richie insisted. 

"Of course. And we can come up with a new workout schedule when you do. For now, let's head home and get you settled in." Remembering an earlier comment, Duncan added, "I bet you're hungry, too." 

"I suppose I could eat something." 

Duncan almost sighed at the reply. The young man was probably starving, but wouldn't admit it. "All right, let's go." He spotted a backpack sitting next to the door. "Is that all of your things?" 

"Yeah." Richie picked up the bag, and a motorcycle helmet next to it. "By the way, I don't have any wheels." 

"Where's your bike?" 

"It wasn't mine. I was... borrowing it." 

"You mean you stole it." 

Richie shrugged. "Before I met you. The police have it back now." 

"Good." Duncan started the T-bird and headed home, trying to figure out what he was going to tell Tessa. 

***** 

Once home, Duncan wasted no time finding something for Richie to eat. He started him off with some orange juice and a bagel while he cooked an omelet. He had just slid it onto a plate when Tessa came into the kitchen. The Scot handed over the omelet to the hungry Immortal, then performed introductions. 

"Duncan, would you join me in the office for a moment?" Tessa asked, her tone icy. 

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Duncan told Richie before following her to the office. 

"What is *he* doing here?" Tessa asked. 

"He followed me home. Can I keep him?" Duncan hoped a little levity would calm her down. Her glare told him he was wrong. 

"You promised to keep him away from here." 

"I said I would *try*. You might as well know all of it. I've offered to let him live here with us." Duncan braced himself for an outburst, but she just looked at him like he'd lost his mind. 

"You did *what*?" 

"Tess, he was sleeping in the warehouse! He hasn't had a solid meal in weeks because he can't afford to buy food. I don't really *want* to know what he has been eating." 

"He is a thief! He will steal whatever he can, then run away." 

Duncan sighed. "I don't think that will happen. Richie does have a sense of honor - even if he won't admit it. He's been starving himself rather than stealing because it was a condition that I made before I agreed to train him. That should tell you something about him." 

"Yes, he is too lazy to get a job." 

"I haven't given him any time to get one. His training takes up a good deal of the day. Just give him a chance, Tessa." He turned his best pleading face on her. 

Tessa placed her hands on her hips and faced the Highlander. "Tell me something, Duncan. How did you ever manage to live for more than four hundred years? You are a sucker for a sob story every time. First Felicia comes along and you take her in, now it is Richie. Who will be next? Hmmmm?" 

"I promise. Richie will be the last one." 

Tessa laughed and moved closer to pat his cheek. "Fortunately for you, I won't hold you to that promise. Very well, Richie can stay here for now, but he has to find a job so that he can move out as soon as possible." 

"He's already said he wants to get one. You won't regret this." 

"I'd better not," Tessa said as she headed back to her workshop. Duncan went back to the kitchen and found Richie still sitting at the dining room table, his plate empty of food. 

The young man kept his face down as he asked, "So, am I still staying here?" 

"Yes, you are." 

"She wants me out as soon as possible." 

Duncan didn't miss the hurt in the young man's voice. "Let's just say we're not used to having full-time guests." 

"Cramps your style?" Richie finally looked up and smirked. 

"Something like that. I have one more condition, too. I want your gun. I'll keep it in a safe place and you can have it when you move out." 

"Don't have it anymore." 

Duncan sighed in exasperation. "Richie," he growled. 

"Honest! I sold it so I could buy some things. You know - sweat clothes, tennis shoes, food." 

Duncan studied Richie closely for a moment. "All right, I believe you. Now, did you get enough to eat?" 

"For now." 

"Good. Let me show you where you'll be sleeping." 

***** 

For the first week, life was uneasy around the antique store. Tessa and Richie were polite to each other, but that was as far as it went. Of course, they seldom saw each other except during meals. She was busy getting ready for her art show and spent all her time in her workshop. He was out looking for a job a good part of the day. When he was in the apartment, he either spent his time in the small room where Duncan kept his weights, or in his bedroom. 

Duncan had cut back on the training for now. Richie needed time to gain back some of the pounds he'd lost. Until that time, they would do a few katas each morning and a small amount of weight lifting. The Scot kept busy, concentrating on the antique store, and trying to decide what to give Tessa for her upcoming birthday. 

He felt the touch of another Immortal and looked up from the display case he was arranging. Richie came into the shop a moment later. It was the first time he'd been in there since he'd moved in. 

"Hey, Rich," Duncan greeted him. "What do you need?" 

Richie's eyes wandered around the store - anywhere but at the other Immortal. "I need a loan," he finally blurted out, almost defiantly. 

Duncan knew how difficult it must have been for the younger man to ask for money. He wasn't going to make it worse by interrogating him. "How much do you need?" he asked as he headed for the office. 

A startled look crossed Ryan's face for a moment, but was quickly hidden. "A hundred should do it. I'll pay you back as soon as possible." 

"I know you will." Duncan opened the desk drawer where he kept cash while the store was open, and pulled out the required funds. He handed the bills to the younger man. "Are you sure that's enough?" 

Richie nodded as he took the money. He stared at it for a moment, then looked at the Highlander with a puzzled expression. "That's it? No questions about why I need it?" 

"No. I figured you wouldn't have asked for it if you didn't need it." 

"I don't understand you sometimes!" Richie flung his hands up in the air in disgust. "You take a virtual stranger into your home - a home that's filled with very expensive antiques. The only thing you *do* know about me is that I tried to break in here and rob you a few years ago. And even though I have no job and no way of paying you back, you loan me money. Are you stupid or something?" 

"Did you ever think that after four hundred years I might be a good judge of character? Even in the short time I've known you, I've seen your sense of pride and honor. I'm not worried about you living here. I'm not even worried that you might steal something. As for the money," Duncan shrugged, "it's just money - and not even that much." 

Richie shook his head. "It may not be much to you, but I know guys who would kill if they could score a hundred bucks." 

"Just as long as you're not one of them - and I don't think you are." Duncan paused for a moment. "Here's something for you to think about. You have the potential to live a very long life, and the things you do now, the decisions you make, will stay with you. A guilty conscience can be a very hard thing to live with for centuries." 

A thoughtful look crossed Richie's face. "You sound like you're speaking from experience." 

"I've done things I now regret," Duncan said, thinking back over his lifetime. "I wish I could forget some of them, but I can't. I have a code I live by and I try to keep to it. But I'm not perfect - no one is. The best we can hope for is to do our best and learn from our mistakes." 

Richie didn't look convinced. "I'll keep it in mind. I've gotta go now." He headed out of the office and toward the front door of the shop. 

***** 

The next morning, Duncan found Tessa in the kitchen, staring into the refrigerator. "What's for breakfast?" 

"How does grapefruit sound?" Tessa said as she reached in and pulled out two of the suggested fruit. 

"That's fine. What else?" 

"There is nothing else," Tessa explained. 

Confused, Duncan went over and looked into the refrigerator. Empty shelves greeted him. "I just bought groceries a few days ago. Where did all of it go?" 

"Does the name Richie ring any bells?" Tessa asked somewhat sarcastically. "He has quite an appetite." 

"I'm sorry." 

Duncan spun around and saw Richie standing by the table, his face showed no emotion, but his eyes reflected the hurt he was feeling. 

"There's nothing to apologize for," Duncan said quickly. "I just didn't take into account that there was another mouth to feed when I bought groceries. I'll know better next time." 

"I'll try to eat less," Richie replied, looking down at his feet. 

"You'll eat as much as you want," Duncan insisted. 

Richie looked at Tessa as if to see whether she agreed with Duncan's statement. She must have realized it too, because she quickly spoke up. 

"I am sorry, Richie. I didn't mean it as a criticism. I was just explaining why there was nothing for breakfast to Duncan. You are welcome to eat anything you want." 

"Well, I won't be here for dinner tonight... or the next two nights, either." 

"Why?" Duncan asked, trying to decide whether Richie's pride was driving him away. 

"I'm going to be working. It's only part-time - Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights - and it has really bad hours. I probably won't get in until after one. Is that a problem?" 

"Of course not," Duncan replied. "Just remind me to give you keys so you can let yourself in. So what kind of job is it?" 

"Does it matter?" Richie challenged him. 

Duncan sighed. "No, it doesn't matter. Stop being so defensive, Richie. I was just curious. You don't have to tell me anything." 

Richie flushed, but didn't reply. He looked down at the floor again for a moment before looking up. "Why don't I go get some doughnuts or something for breakfast?" 

"That sounds good. What do you say, Tessa?" 

She nodded. "A bagel does sound good. You can take my car, Richie. There is a place over on Galley Street that we usually go to." 

Duncan reached for his wallet, but Richie stopped him. "I have enough left over from yesterday. Do you want bagels, too?" 

"Yes. Why don't you get a dozen - and some cream cheese, too." 

"Okay. I'll be back soon." 

"And I will start making a grocery list," Tessa said. "Otherwise, we will not have anything to eat for lunch or dinner." 

***** 

After breakfast, Duncan put Richie to work unpacking a large delivery that had arrived the day before. The young Immortal quickly caught on to the process and the need for delicate handling of the antiques. The Scot left him to it, confident that the work would be done right. 

He checked back with the young man at lunch time and was pleased with his progress. Richie was just unwrapping the last vase. Duncan waited until it had been carefully placed on a shelf before speaking. 

"You've done a good job, Richie." 

A pleased smile crossed the young man's face, but he quickly turned away as if to hide it. Richie picked up the invoices and checked off the last item before handing them over to Duncan. 

"All present and accounted for. What do you want me to do with all this stuff?" he asked as he pointed at the packing material scattered around the room. 

"It can wait until after lunch. Some of it we'll keep, and the rest will need to be hauled out to the trash bin. The boxes need to be broken down and taken out, too." 

"Okay, I can take care of that." 

"What time do you need to go to work?" Duncan asked as they headed for the kitchen. 

"I need to be there by six." 

"How will you get there?" 

"A friend is coming to pick me up. I'll be fine." 

They found the kitchen fully stocked again, thanks to Tessa's trip to the grocery store that morning. They made sandwiches and took them over to the table to eat. 

"You're going to need to get some means of transportation," Duncan said. 

Richie nodded. "I'll probably get some kind of motorcycle as soon as I can afford it. Used ones don't cost too much, and they're cheap to run." 

"That's true. And they're fairly easy to maintain, too." Duncan paused for a moment to take a bite of his sandwich. After swallowing, he suggested, "I could loan you the money to buy one." 

Richie took his time to answer, keeping his face blank while he thought it over. "I'll keep that in mind," he replied in a neutral tone. "I haven't found one that I want yet. I'll let you know if I don't have enough money to buy it." 

Duncan was pleased with the response. It made it quite clear that Richie wasn't looking for the easy way to do things, yet was willing to accept help if needed. 

***** 

The Scot had a busy afternoon in the shop. There were even times when he wished he had an assistant. He had briefly thought about asking Tessa to help out at the busiest time, but one look at her had changed his mind. She'd been wrestling with several large pieces of metal which she'd been soldering together. It showed in her mussed hair and sweaty face. She would be appalled if a customer saw her that way. 

During a brief lull, he also thought about hiring Richie to work in the shop. He decided to wait for a while to ask him. Ryan might think that Duncan didn't believe he could find or hold a job on his own. He'd see how well his new job went first. 

Whatever the job was. Duncan hoped it was something good, but he couldn't think of what it would be based on the hours Richie claimed he would be working. He was even more puzzled when the young man came looking for him around five o'clock. Ryan was dressed in a white shirt, black pants, and black shoes. 

"I need a key to get back in tonight," Richie reminded him as he came into the office. 

Duncan set down the money he'd been counting and got one out of the desk drawer. "This will unlock the back door." 

"Okay. I'll try to be quiet when I come in so I don't wake you up." 

Duncan nodded. "Did you eat something for dinner?" 

Richie shook his head. "I'm not hungry." 

The Scot glared at the younger man. "Richie, we told you this morning that you could eat anything you wanted." He glanced at the clock, then stood up. "Come on. You still have time to eat before you have to leave. It won't take long to heat up some soup and make a sandwich." 

Richie shook his head again. "I don't *want* anything to eat! I'm..." His face flushed with color. "I'm too nervous to eat!" 

"Nervous about what?" Duncan asked. "Your new job?" 

"Yeah," Richie replied curtly. 

"So, what makes you nervous? That you can't do the work? That you won't like it? What?" 

For a moment, he thought Richie would clam up again, but he finally spoke. "Look, I don't exactly have a good job history. Either I'd screw up and get fired, or I'd hate it and quit. But it never seemed like a big deal, one way or another. I don't know why I'm so nervous about this one. It just seems important for some reason." 

The Scot had a theory, but didn't think Richie would appreciate it at this point. It might be that the young man wanted to prove to Duncan that he could get a job and hold on to it. Or maybe he just wanted the freedom that the job would give him. 

"Well, try not to think about it. I'm sure you'll do just fine... at whatever it is." Duncan hoped for some enlightenment about the job, but the young man didn't cooperate. 

"I hope so." The sound of a horn sent Richie to the front door. "There's my friend. I'm off." 

"Good luck, Richie." 

With a quick wave, the young man was out the door and gone. 

Duncan went back to his bookwork, only to be interrupted by Tessa a few moments later. Once again, he set down the money he'd been trying to count. At this rate, it would take him all evening to tally the day's receipts. 

"Did you see Richie before he left?" she asked as she perched on the corner of his desk. 

Duncan nodded. "It makes me wonder just what kind of job he has." 

"I think he is going to be a waiter." 

He thought about it for a moment. "The clothes and hours would match. Maybe you're right, but somehow I can't see him waiting on tables." 

"You do realize we have the evening all to ourselves," Tessa said with a seductive smile before heading back to the apartment. 

Duncan quickly decided the bookwork could wait until tomorrow. He wasted no time placing the cash and checks into the safe before following her. 

***** 

It was after eleven the next morning when Richie finally made an appearance. Since the Scot had sensed him coming in around two o'clock his sleeping in hadn't been unexpected. It had been a bit of a shock to be awakened by the presence of another Immortal, and he hadn't been able to relax until he heard the door to the young man's bedroom open, then shut. Satisfied that it wasn't an intruder, he'd managed to go back to sleep then. 

Yawning and carrying a cup of coffee, Richie joined Duncan in the office, flopping down into a chair next to the desk. 

"How did the first night of work go?" Duncan asked, trying to maintain a casual tone. 

Richie shrugged. "I didn't get fired." 

"Is that good or bad?" 

The young man gave a small grin. "Good, I guess. The job's okay... just not something I want to do for very long." 

"And what exactly are you doing?" Duncan hoped he'd get an answer this time, but the phone rang before Richie could reply. 

The caller was Mike Anderson, a real estate agent and a good friend. Anderson and his wife, Marjorie, often spent time with Duncan and Tessa. Today he wanted to remind the Scot of their dinner reservations at The Chart House to celebrate Tessa's upcoming birthday. The restaurant was, without a doubt, the ritziest one in town. While not required, formal attire was the norm on the weekends. By the time he got off the phone, Richie had disappeared. With a sigh, Duncan went to find Tessa and to make sure his tuxedo was clean. 

***** 

Duncan turned into the driveway that led up to the entrance to the restaurant. He glanced over at his lover and, as usual, was almost awed by her beauty. Dressed in a gold sequined dress, she seemed to shimmer in the dim evening light. He reached for her hand and pressed it to his lips for a second. She smiled at him, and his insides melted. Even after fifteen years together, she still had that effect on him. 

Suddenly, he felt the touch of another Immortal, and he quickly scanned the area. 

"What is it?" Tessa asked. 

He didn't bother trying to hide the truth. "Another Immortal." 

Tessa also scanned the area. "Are you expecting anyone?" 

"No." 

"Then let's leave. We can call the restaurant from home and have them page Marjorie and Mike. We can tell them I wasn't feeling well." 

Duncan sighed. "Tessa, we've been over this before. Running from a fight just delays it. Besides, this is a public place. He won't challenge me here." Of course, that hadn't stopped Walter Reinhardt from challenging him, but there wasn't any reason to point that out to Tessa. 

He pulled the T-bird up to the doorway and the waiting valet. He grinned suddenly when he realized who the Immortal was. Richie had added a red jacket with 'Chart House' embroidered on the pocket, and a black tie to his ensemble and, with a flourish, he opened Tessa's door and assisted her out of the car. 

"Good evening, Miss Noel," he said cheekily. "You are looking quite lovely tonight." Shutting her door, he ran around the car to take the car keys from Duncan and give him a claim ticket. "I hope you enjoy your evening, Mr. MacLeod." 

"It's been quite... enlightening so far," Duncan said with a grin. "I expect you to treat this car as if it was your very own." 

Richie's eyebrows shot up. "You mean you want me to drag race in it?" He quickly ducked the light blow aimed at his head. Chuckling, he climbed into the T-bird and sedately pulled away from the entrance. 

"I don't believe it," Tessa said with a bemused look on her face. "Richie is working as a valet. Why didn't he tell us?" 

Duncan shrugged. "We can ask him tomorrow. For now, let's enjoy our night out." 

The dinner party was quite enjoyable. Duncan and Tessa danced several times before changing partners with Mike and Marjorie. At one point, the women excused themselves to go to the restroom, and Anderson quickly brought up his favorite subject - real estate. 

"Duncan, I have someone who's very interested in buying that piece of property you own down in the warehouse distract. I think you'll be quite pleased with his offer." Mike pulled an envelope out of his pocket and slid it across the table. 

Somewhat reluctantly, Duncan picked it up and opened it. He really didn't want to sell the warehouse since he often used it to practice. He'd planned to continue Richie's lessons there. It was out of the way, offered some protection from the elements - something very important as it rained a lot in Seacouver. 

Looking at the offer, he was somewhat surprised. It was a very good offer for a piece of real estate that was basically unusable. If he turned it down, it could raise suspicions about why he kept it. 

"I don't know, Mike. This seems like a great deal of money for a lot with a dilapidated warehouse on it. What's going on?" 

Mike grimaced. "I knew you'd think something was fishy and would hold out for more." He pulled a second envelope out. "Here's their top dollar. The buyers are planning on building a super-mall in the area and need a lot of land. It will be great for the local economy. And you'll make a nice profit, too." 

Duncan opened the other envelope with a sinking sensation. He couldn't turn down this kind of money without a good explanation - which he didn't have. 

"You've got a deal," he finally said as he saw the women crossing the room towards their table. "Bring the papers around on Monday and we'll finalize everything." 

The rest of the evening was devoted to eating, dancing, and socializing. The service was impeccable, the food excellent, and the wine list was outstanding. Duncan could tell Tessa was thoroughly enjoying the outing. They decided to stay even after Mike and Marjorie had called it an evening. The Scot made a silent promise that they would have this kind of outing more often. 

Reluctantly, they finally decided to go home. Duncan handed his claim ticket back to Richie and watched as he ran off into the darkness. If nothing else, the job was good exercise for him. A few minutes later, he pulled up in the T-bird. Duncan assisted Tessa into the car before going around to take his own place. The young Immortal blocked his way, holding his hand out for a tip. 

Hiding a grin, Duncan pulled a dollar bill out of his pocket and handed it over. Richie glanced down, then muttered, "Cheap bastard. How am I supposed to pay you back with this kind of tip?" 

The Scot laughed before pulling another bill out - this time a five. "Here you go, Richie. See you in the morning." 

"Yeah. Oops, got to go. Another customer." Richie ran over to the man standing at the curbside. 

Duncan watched him for a moment, before climbing into the car and heading home. 

***** 

Once again it was late when Richie emerged from his room the next morning. Duncan and Tessa were in the living room reading the Sunday paper when he joined them. 

"So, what was the special occasion last night? Or do you always dress up that way for dinner?" 

"We were celebrating Tessa's birthday with some friends," Duncan explained, smiling at his lover. "Her birthday isn't until Thursday, but our friends wanted to go out last night." 

"Still seemed pretty fancy to me." 

"It may be a little bit fancy," Tessa said, "but dressing up like that makes you feel very special." 

"I wouldn't know," Richie replied, somewhat bitterly. "Not that it matters, anyway. You guys are allowed inside places like that. I'm lucky if I'm allowed to work outside. They'd probably fire me if I tried to eat there." 

"Then we will go somewhere else." Tessa studied the young man intently for a moment. "Yes, I think you would look very handsome in a tuxedo." 

"ME?" Richie squeaked out. "In a penguin suit? I don't think so!" 

"We will see," Tessa replied with a slight smile. 

Duncan had seen that look before. Richie didn't know it yet, but he *would* be wearing a tuxedo. Tessa would make sure of that. "Why didn't you want us to know what your job was, Richie? There's nothing wrong with what you're doing." 

"I don't know. I guess I just figured you'd think it was too... too..." He paused as he searched for the words he wanted. 

"Too menial?" Duncan suggested. 

"Yeah, that. After all, it doesn't take a lot of brains." 

"It's an honest job. There's nothing to be ashamed of. And it's not like you're stuck with it for the rest of your life." 

"Yeah. I figured it was better than nothing. Besides, the tips are really good." Richie smiled at the thought. 

"I hope you are a little more subtle with the other customers then you were with me when it comes to tips," Duncan said, frowning a little. If Richie treated everyone like that, he'd be out of a job really soon. 

"Sure. You just got the special treatment." Richie grinned cheekily. 

"Fine. Go eat breakfast or lunch or whatever. Then we'll go do a little sparring. I'll show you special treatment." 

"Oooooh, I'm shaking in my boots here." 

Duncan laughed. "You should be." 

***** 

The sparring session went better than expected. Now that Richie was eating regular meals, his stamina had greatly improved. He still had a long way to go, but there was a definite improvement. Even their earlier camaraderie carried over into their swordplay. For the first time since the young Immortal had shown up, Duncan was enjoying himself. 

There was something about teaching that was so rewarding - especially if the student was responsive to his lessons. Duncan had forgotten how gratifying it was to see a student accomplish a tricky sword move for the first time. 

Determined to handle the young Immortal's training differently this time, Duncan made sure he praised Richie more often. While the young Immortal always seemed cocky and self-assured, it had become quite apparent during the last week that he actually had a low sense of self- esteem and self-worth. The other change he made was to make the training less intense. There was no reason they couldn't enjoy themselves while they were learning. 

Richie seemed to blossom under the new style of training. He paid more attention while Duncan was showing him a move, and kept trying it over and over until he had it down pat. He even managed to disarm the Scot once during the training session and had a pleased smile on his face for the next fifteen minutes. 

After several hours, Duncan finally called it quits. "That's enough for today, Richie." 

"I'm fine. I can go for at least another hour." 

"No. There's no sense in wearing yourself down. After all, you have to work tonight, too." Duncan walked over to where he'd left his bag and pulled out two towels, one of which he threw to the young man. "You did really well today." 

"Thanks, Mac," Richie replied with a broad smile. 

For a moment, Duncan was startled by the shortened version of his name. While an obvious nickname, very few people ever used it. Those that didn't use his first name, usually called him MacLeod. He hoped it was a sign that Richie was starting to feel more comfortable around him. 

***** 

When they got back to the apartment Richie disappeared into his bedroom while Duncan went into the kitchen to get something to drink. He had just filled a glass with orange juice when he heard a door slam from the bedroom area. A moment later, the young Immortal stormed into the kitchen. 

"Where is she?" he yelled, his face filled with anger. 

There was only one 'she' that he could be referring to, but Duncan was still confused. "Tessa? Why?" 

"She took all my clothes!" 

"Are you sure?" 

Richie shot him a look of disbelief before spinning around and heading for the door leading to Tessa's workshop. 

"Okay, dumb question," Duncan conceded as he followed the younger man. "Calm down, Richie. I'm sure there's a very good explanation." He had no idea what it would be, but he wasn't about to let Ryan confront Tessa unless he was there to protect her. 

"Yeah, right. I've got an explanation for you. She doesn't want me here so she threw all my stuff out." 

"That's ridiculous. If she was going to do something like that, she would have done it earlier than this." 

"Yeah, well maybe she doesn't want a parking valet living here. It might ruin her social status." 

Duncan grabbed Ryan's arm and pulled him to a halt. Another tug brought him around to face the Scot. "Tessa isn't like that. She doesn't care about social status or what you do for a living. You are way out of line, Richie." 

"Then where are my clothes?" Richie jerked free and continued his search by heading for the office. Like her workshop, it was empty as was the antique store. They finally found her in the utility room. "Where are my clothes?" he asked again. 

"They are right here," Tessa said, pointing to a small stack of neatly folded clothes on top of the dryer. "I was doing laundry so I washed them for you." 

"You had no right!" Richie grabbed the clothes. 

"I was just trying to help," Tessa protested. 

"Just keep away from my stuff! I don't need your help!" 

"That's enough, Richie," Duncan said, deciding it was time to intervene. "Tessa thought she was doing something nice for you. You should be thanking her, not yelling at her." 

Color flooded through the young man's face. "She had no right to go through my stuff." 

"You are right," Tessa agreed before Duncan could say anything. "I should not have done that without your permission. I was wrong. Please forgive me." 

Her apology deflated Richie's anger faster than anything else possibly could. His mouth opened and closed several times without anything coming out. "I guess," he finally said. "Just don't do it again." 

"I won't," Tessa promised. 

"Okay." With that final word, Richie backed out of the utility room. He wasted no time disappearing down the hall toward the living area and his bedroom. 

Duncan and Tessa exchanged looks. "I'm sorry," he said. "I tried to calm him down. Maybe having him live here isn't such a good idea." 

"It is all right. I shouldn't have gone into his room. He was right about that." 

"Still, there was no reason for him to get so upset. You didn't hurt anything." 

"It may be because he has so few clothes," Tessa said. "I think maybe he is embarrassed that I know that now. Other than what he is wearing and the outfit he bought for work, he only has two pairs of jeans, four shirts, and some boxer shorts." She shook her head. "If those were your clothes, they would have been in the ragbag months ago." 

"Well, there's not much we can do about it. I doubt Richie's pride would let him accept a gift of clothes from us. And I'm sure he won't appreciate it if I offer him a loan to buy some more." 

"Men and their pride. It makes no sense." 

"It's not just men who have pride," Duncan said as he leaned over to give her a quick kiss. 

Tessa's nose wrinkled in disgust. "You need a shower." 

"Want to come wash my back?" he suggested hopefully. 

"I think you can manage just fine by yourself. Just hold that thought until later tonight." She gave him a promising smile. 

"I'll do that." 

***** 

Richie left for work without saying another word to the couple. Duncan felt like he'd lost all the ground he'd gained earlier. He didn't blame Tessa for what she had done, but he knew she was blaming herself. She had retreated to the catwalk above her workshop, ostensibly to work on her sketches. However, she seemed more intent on staring out into space than actually committing anything to paper. 

Duncan waited until dinnertime to bring the subject up again. After dishing up the seafood pasta he'd made, he carried it over to the dining room table and joined Tessa. 

"It's not your fault," he said as he passed her the basket filled with breadsticks. 

Her hand hovered over the warm bread for a moment as she stared at him. She finally picked one out of the basket before commenting, "I feel like it is." 

"I know you do, but you weren't doing anything wrong. Richie over-reacted, that's all." 

"I don't know what to say to him sometimes. I am always worried that he will misunderstand me or that I will drive him away." 

"I feel the same way, Tessa. If he leaves here before he finishes his training he's a walking target for any Immortal who comes along. He wouldn't stand a chance." 

"Does he really have a chance?" she asked with a frown. "You were taught how to fight at an early age and have had four hundred years to grow even more proficient. How can you hope to teach him that much in a few short months? Even a few years?" 

Duncan stared down at his plate, his appetite suddenly gone. He shook his head slowly. "I can't, Tessa." 

"Then why even try? Aren't you giving him a false sense of hope?" 

He stared into her anguished eyes and knew his reflected the same pain. "I have to *try*. He deserves a chance to live as long as possible. He hasn't even had a mortal's lifetime yet. Maybe he will be lucky enough to have at least that." 

"How will luck help him? Against a seasoned Immortal determined to take his head?" 

Duncan sighed. "Luck is a big part of an Immortal's life. Look how long I went without meeting any other Immortals. Maybe he will have the same luck. Or maybe when he's challenged, the other Immortal will make a fatal mistake. I've gone up against better swordsmen than myself and come out the victor. Maybe Richie can do the same if I train him well enough." 

"I hope so. Richie is so young..." 

"I'll do my best, Tessa." 

***** 

Duncan woke up when he felt the presence of another Immortal. Knowing it was just Richie, he rolled over to get closer to his lover only to find her side of the bed was empty. He threw off the bedcovers and climbed to his feet. For a moment, he debated leaving his katana behind, but years of training made him pick it up. 

As he padded down the hallway, he could hear the faint sound of rain hitting the roof and windows and feel the chill in the air. It was typical Seacouver fall weather. He paused at the entrance to the living room, unable to believe his eyes. 

Richie had just come into the kitchen looking like a drowned rat. More importantly, Tessa was waiting for him with a towel and a bathrobe. Duncan stayed where he was, curious to see what would happen. 

"Richie! You are soaked!" she said as she handed him the towel. "I was afraid of this when I heard it start to rain." 

"Hey, I'm immortal. A little rain won't kill me." 

"Just because you are immortal doesn't mean you can't catch a cold," she scolded him. 

"Really?" Richie's eyes opened wide. 

"Really. Duncan can be such a baby about it at times." 

For a moment, the Scot debated rushing forward to defend his reputation, but he fought down the urge. 

"Oh yeah? What does he do?" 

"I'll tell you all about it, but first you should get out of those soaking clothes. Here is an old robe of Duncan's - he never wears it anymore so you can keep it. You can change in the laundry room and leave your wet clothes there. I made some hot chocolate and we can have a long chat while you drink it." 

Duncan withdrew to his bedroom, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping. He had to give Tessa credit. He'd never seen that bathrobe in his life. He suspected it had been one of his Christmas gifts. She always did her shopping well in advance of the holidays and took great joy in letting him know about it when he was running around fighting the Christmas crowds. 

She joined him in bed about forty minutes later. He pulled her over into a hug. "Have a nice chat?" he asked.

"Yes, we did." 

"Are you going to tell me about it?" 

"No." 

"No?" Duncan couldn't believe his ears. 

"No." She kissed him lightly, then rolled over, pulling up the covers around her. 

For several long moments, Duncan just stared at her. Then he chuckled lightly before kissing the back of her neck - the only piece of skin available. One thing was for certain - life with Tessa was never dull. Just when he thought he had her figured out, she'd surprise him again. 

***** 

The next morning, Duncan had just finished packing a vase that he'd sold when he noticed Richie standing in the office doorway, leaning against the jamb. 

"Rich, will you carry this out to Mrs. Gilmore's car?" 

"Sure, Mac." The young man picked up the box, and followed the woman out to her car. He returned a moment later and took up the same position. 

Duncan sensed he wanted to talk about something, but there were still other customers in the shop. It seemed to take forever before the last one left. He walked over and joined Richie. 

"Something on your mind?" 

"Yeah, it's Tessa," he said. Just then the front door opened. "Damn!" 

"Just a second. I'll be right back." Burning up with curiosity, he had a hard time being patient with the customer. He wanted to shove her out the door, but he managed to refrain from doing that. When she finally left, he heaved a sigh of relief before practically dragging Richie back to the apartment. 

"Tessa, can you watch the store for a moment?" he asked as they went through her workshop. "I'll be right back." 

"Of course, Duncan," she said, laying down her sketching pencil. 

He watched her head into the shop before continuing on to the kitchen. After making sure the door leading to the workshop was firmly shut, he spun around to face the young man. "What about Tessa?" 

Richie took a deep breath. "In case you haven't noticed... she's drop-dead gorgeous." 

"Yes, I've noticed." Duncan wondered where this was going. "And?"

Richie started pacing around. "Well... you really need to have a talk with her!" he blurted out. "She shouldn't be running around in the middle of the night wearing one of those flimsy robes. I mean I'm only human!" 

Duncan moved closer to the young Immortal. "You lay one hand on her and your head is mine," he growled. 

Richie's eyes widened in panic. "Hey, don't get me wrong! I wouldn't touch her! I know she loves you and you love her. And I'm not exactly the kind of guy she'd hang out with anyway. But that doesn't stop me..." His face turned bright red. 

The Scot finally understood what he was saying. "It doesn't stop your body from responding?" he asked. 

Richie nodded, misery evident in his eyes. "I would never do anything to her, but I really don't like taking cold showers." 

Duncan chuckled. "I'll have a chat with her." 

Richie sighed in relief. "Thanks, Mac." 

***** 

The next few days went by in a blur. Since Richie only worked on the weekends, he and Duncan spent several hours each evening sparring. The younger Immortal's skills were improving slowly but surely. During the day, Ryan either worked out by himself or helped with unpacking shipments. He also continued searching for a better job. 

Duncan still hadn't decided what he was going to do when the sale of the warehouse was finalized. They needed somewhere to train and Richie would also benefit from having better exercise equipment to work with. There just wasn't space to add anything more into the small exercise room he had. What he really needed to do was find a gym or a dojo somewhere close where they could work out. Preferably one that didn't cater to yuppies. Of course, they wouldn't be able to use real swords, in case someone saw them healing. 

He vaguely recalled seeing a place halfway between the warehouse and the antique store. Duncan finally decided to see if he could find it after their session one night. It took a while to locate it, since he couldn't remember exactly where it was. When they did find the place, they discovered it was out of business and the building was for sale. 

"So much for that idea," Duncan said. "I guess we'll have to find somewhere else." 

"Maybe you should buy it," Richie suggested. "After all, you're selling the warehouse, right? You should be able to afford this dump. And it would give us somewhere to work out." 

Duncan almost passed the idea off as ridiculous, but decided that maybe it was worth thinking about. He needed to invest the money he was making from the warehouse sale. Maybe he could even open up his own dojo. It never hurt to have more than one source of income. He could get someone to manage it for him. Or maybe... He glanced over at the young man sitting next to him. No, he wouldn't say anything until he did a little investigating. 

He would call his friend, Mike and have the real estate agent set up an appointment to look at the building. In the meantime, he could use his computer to get more information. 

***** 

"Happy birthday, Tessa," Duncan greeted his lover the next morning. He gave her a long lingering kiss before climbing out of bed. While he would have loved to stay in bed with her the whole day, the antique store needed to be opened. 

"Birthdays should never be on weekdays," Tessa complained. "It just isn't right." 

Duncan came back to the bed and kissed her again. "We'll have plenty of time to celebrate tonight." 

"With Richie here?" 

"We'll just have to confine our celebration to the bedroom." 

Tessa made a face. "It is just not the same." 

"I know, but short of asking him to take off, I don't know what else I can do." 

Tessa sighed. "I know." She climbed out of bed and reached for the robe draped over a nearby chair. 

Duncan stifled a grin at the heavy velour material of the robe. Tessa had been very distressed when the Scot had informed her of Richie's request. Since then, she'd been very conscientious about her attire. He slipped on his own robe, and they headed for the kitchen. 

The first indication that something was going on was when Duncan got a whiff of a tantalizing smell coming from the kitchen area. A moment later, the dining room table came into view and the couple came to an abrupt stop. 

The table was already set for two, and a small vase filled with flowers sat in the middle. A basket covered by a linen napkin sat beside the bouquet and appeared to be the source of the wonderful aroma. 

"Oh, Duncan, when did you do this?" Tessa said as she hurried over to the table. She raised the napkin and gazed down at the croissants in the basket. "They look delicious! When did you buy them?" 

"I didn't do any of this," Duncan said as he joined her. Besides the croissants, several unopened jars of jam adorned the table. He picked up one and examined it. The label displayed the name of a local bakery that they often used. 

"Richie did this?" Tessa asked, an amazed look on her face. 

"Well, if it wasn't you and it wasn't me, that only leaves one person." Duncan grinned at her. "Unless you believe a good fairy stopped by." 

Tessa grimaced at him. "Not likely. Where is he? I want to thank him." 

"I'll go find him," Duncan said. He quickly looked around the place, but could find no indication that the young man was around. He couldn't even sense his presence. He went back and joined Tessa. "He's not here." 

"I know," she said, waving around a piece of paper. "I found a birthday card on my chair. There was a note inside saying he is going to be gone until tomorrow. That this is his birthday gift to me. He didn't have to do that!" Tears glistened in her eyes. "He must think I am an awful person to not want him around." 

"I'm sure that's not what he thinks," Duncan said, laying comforting hands on her shoulders. "He's just being understanding and giving us some time alone." 

"It's not like he spends all his time with us! I hardly ever see him. I am sure he thinks I hate him." 

Duncan gave her a quick kiss. "And I'm sure he thinks no such thing. Now, let's enjoy your birthday breakfast." He headed over to the kitchen counter where he found a full pot of coffee already made. Richie, it appeared, had thought of everything. 

"Where do you think he will stay tonight?" Tessa asked with a frown. 

"Probably with a friend," Duncan said, although he couldn't help but think about the warehouse. If Richie did spend the night there, they would have to have a serious talk tomorrow. 

***** 

It was a slow day at the antique store. Few customers came in, so Duncan spent his time working on his new project. Between the Internet and the telephone, he gathered a lot of information. Satisfied with the results, he called Mike and made an appointment to view the building the next day. He'd take Richie with him and see what he thought about his idea. 

After he closed the shop, he spent the next hour in the kitchen preparing a special feast to celebrate Tessa's birthday. Instead of making dinner, he fixed various appetizers and finger foods. He intended to serve it in front of the fireplace instead of at the table. He selected one of his best bottles of wine and popped the cork to let it breathe. He then took a quick shower before starting the fire. 

It had become a long-standing tradition on Tessa's birthday. No fancy dinners, no dressing up and going out. Just a quiet night at home in front of a roaring fire. Simple food, a good wine, and comfortable attire. Sometimes they talked for hours. Sometimes they made love. And at other times they just cuddled together, silently watching the flickering flames. 

When he heard the shower turn on, he knew it wouldn't be long before Tessa joined him. He retrieved her gift from its hiding place and returned to the kitchen. He picked up the tray of food and carried it into the living room, placing it on the coffee table. Finally, he poured the wine and sat back to wait for her. 

Tessa joined him shortly, clad only in a silken robe. Her hair, still damp from the shower, framed her face and Duncan felt a wave of love flow through him. It was always like this every time he saw her. Sometimes he wondered what he had ever done to deserve her. 

By all rights, she should have found herself a nice mortal man, gotten married, and had a brood of children. Instead, she'd stayed with him, even though he'd taken her far away from her friends and family and she would never have the child he knew she yearned for. 

They had made a good life here, but Duncan knew it would have to end sometime in the not-so-distant future. They'd been in Seacouver for almost a dozen years. Sooner or later, someone would start to notice that he wasn't aging. If they were lucky, they would have another five years here. There were things he could do to make himself look older. For tonight though, he would forget about that. 

"Happy birthday," he said, handing over a small, gaily wrapped package. 

She took it from him with a smile, moving to sit beside him on the couch. Tessa gave him a kiss before quickly removing the ribbon and paper to expose a small jeweler's box. Inside, nestled against velvet, she found a pair of diamond and pearl earrings. "Oh, they're beautiful," she exclaimed, turning to give him a more enthusiastic kiss. "Thank you so much, Duncan." 

"You're welcome. Something beautiful for someone beautiful. I thought you might wear them to your showing on opening night, although I'm sure no one will notice them. They'll be too busy admiring you and your art." 

She slapped him playfully. "I think you have had too much wine already." 

"I haven't had any yet," Duncan insisted, sitting up for a moment to retrieve the wine glasses. He handed one to her before taking a sip from his own. 

"I guess I'll have to go shopping for a new dress," Tessa said with a smile. "I don't have a thing to wear with these earrings." 

Duncan just shrugged and smiled. He'd expected that. 

"It's hard to believe it's only two weeks away." 

"Will you be ready?" he asked. 

"Yes, I think so. I only have a few more things to finish up. I should be able to spend more time in the shop helping you now. That way you can have more time training Richie." A frown crossed her face. 

"What is it?" 

She gave a small sigh. "I was just wondering where he was spending the night. I hope he isn't staying at the warehouse again." 

"I could go down there and check it out," Duncan suggested, not really wanting to ruin their evening.

"Maybe later," she said, pushing him down on the couch. "I have other plans right now." 

"And do these plans include me?" he asked, striving for an innocent look. 

"Well, you could just lie there and think of Scotland." Tessa leaned over and ravished his mouth. 

"I'd rather think of you," he managed to say when she let him come up for air. 

"I would hope so." 

***** 

It was quite some time before the subject of Richie came up again. They'd managed to make large inroads on the platter of food and empty the bottle of wine between bouts of making love. The chiming of a clock reminded Tessa of the time. 

"It is eleven o'clock, Duncan. Maybe you should drive down to the warehouse just to check it out. I don't like the thought of him spending the night there." 

"Neither do I," Duncan admitted. "It won't take long." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Why don't you get ready for bed while I'm gone." He stood up and headed for the bedroom to get dressed. 

When he came back, he was tempted to join Tessa on the couch again. With a sigh, he walked over and kissed her. "I'll be back soon." 

She just nodded, and he headed for the backdoor. It didn't take long to drive over to the warehouse. He parked the T-bird and headed inside, immediately knowing the young Immortal was there. 

A part of him was pleased to see Richie greet him with his sword in his hand while the other part of him was ready to tear into the young man for pulling this stunt. 

Before he had a chance to say anything, Richie gave a sigh of relief and lowered his sword. "You scared me, Mac. I thought I might have to fight for real." 

"You're lucky it was me," Duncan growled. "You're not ready to face another Immortal yet. You should have headed for the nearest holy ground!" 

Richie scowled. "I'm not going to run from a fight. I thought that was the purpose of all this training." 

"Yes, when you're ready, but you have a long way to go before that." Duncan took a deep breath. "We can talk about that later. Right now I want to know why you pulled this little stunt." 

Richie looked puzzled. "What stunt?" 

Duncan waved his hand around the warehouse. "You spending the night here when you have a perfectly good bed to sleep in."

The young man scowled again. "I figured I'd be in the way." 

"Well, you figured wrong. It's not that we didn't enjoy having the evening to ourselves, but that's no reason for you to sleep in a warehouse!" 

"It wouldn't have killed me. I'm immortal - remember?" Richie snapped back. 

"That's not the point. Tessa was worried enough to send me down here looking for you." 

A stunned look crossed the young man's face. "Tessa was worried? About me?" 

"Yes, she was worried. Why is that so hard to believe?" 

"No one's ever worried about me before." 

"Well, get used to it. Tessa cares about people she likes." 

"She likes me?" A shy smile crossed his face. 

"Yes, and so do I." Duncan placed an arm around the young man's shoulders and steered him toward the car. "Let's go home." 

***** 

Duncan pounded on Richie's bedroom door at seven o'clock the next morning. "Rise and shine," he called through the closed door. 

Ten minutes later, the young man joined Duncan in the dining room after pouring himself a cup of coffee. "I might rise, but I refuse to shine at this time of morning," Richie said, grumpily, as he sat down. "Was there a reason for this torture?" 

"Yes." Duncan gave him a cheeky grin. "We have an appointment at eight." 

"We do?" A puzzled look crossed Ryan's face. 

"Yes." The Scot refused to satisfy his curiosity. "We leave in forty minutes. Don't be late." 

Tessa picked that moment to join them. "Good morning, Richie," she said as she walked over to the table. Without warning, she leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. "Thank you for the lovely breakfast and flowers yesterday. You made my birthday very special." 

Richie turned bright red, and barely managed to stammer, "It wasn't any big deal." 

"The proper response is 'You're welcome'," she chided him, gently. "It *was* a big deal, especially when I was not expecting it. I *love* surprises." 

"I'll remember that," Richie said. 

Duncan wondered which fact he would remember - how to respond to thanks or that Tessa loved surprises. He glanced at his watch and reminded Richie, "Thirty minutes." 

"All right, already. Geez, how long do you think it takes me to get ready to go somewhere? I'll be on time." He stood up and left the room. 

***** 

Richie reappeared with a minute to spare. "All set," he said. 

"Good." Duncan finished off his coffee, and together they went out to the T-bird. 

"I'm starting a new job on Monday," Richie said, as soon as they started on their way. "This one is full-time so I'll be making more money. It shouldn't take long for me to have enough to get my own place. I'll also be able to pay you back that $100 you loaned me after I get my first paycheck. I almost had enough, but those flowers and the croissants for Tessa really set me back." 

"No problem. Besides, that was a much better use for the money," Duncan said. "So, what kind of job did you end up with?" 

Richie looked away, staring out the side window. Duncan sighed. "We've been through this before, Richie. It doesn't matter what your job is, I was just curious." 

The young man continued to look out the window, but said, "I'm going to work in a warehouse - mostly loading and unloading trucks. I guess they figure it won't take any brains to do that." His head swiveled around. "How am I supposed to get experience if no one will hire me without it?" 

Duncan chuckled. "It's a problem that's been around awhile. It used to be that you would learn a trade from an early age. Of course, sometimes that wasn't much better than being a slave. You worked long hours for no pay. At least you have that advantage." 

"Yeah, I guess." 

"As for having brains, you have plenty of those. Now, you've just got to figure out how to use them. Keep your eyes and ears open and your mouth shut. Look for opportunities for improvement, but try not to alienate anyone in the process. Next thing you know, you'll be running the place." 

Richie snorted. "I doubt that, but I'll keep it in mind." He looked away again. "I do have one little problem though." 

"Oh? What's that?" Duncan was glad Richie finally felt comfortable enough to discuss problems with him. 

"I'll need some kind of transportation to and from work. Can you loan me enough to buy a bike? I found someone who will sell me one for only $700." He turned to face the older man, and the words started tumbling out. "It won't take me long to pay you back - I promise. The pay's not great, but there's supposed to be a lot of overtime work. And I'll still keep the valet job. I'm making a lot in tips there. So, it won't take long at all." 

"It's not a problem, Richie. I'm more than willing to loan you the money. And you don't have to rush in paying it back - especially if it means you have to work overtime. You can't spend all your time working. You need to concentrate on your sword training, too. That's more important in the long run." 

Richie shot him a grateful look. "Thanks, Mac. So, where are we going?" 

"We're here," the Scot said as he pulled up in front of the building that used to house DeSalvo's Gym. "We have an appointment to look over the place. I'm thinking of taking your advice and buying it." 

"Really?" Richie turned his head and smirked at the older man. "Maybe I should hire myself out as a real estate consultant and financial advisor." 

"Don't quit your other job yet. Besides, we have to see what kind of shape the building is in first. I don't want to have to pour a fortune into the place." 

Mike Anderson was waiting for them. Duncan introduced the two men before heading into the building. They started in the basement and worked their way slowly through every room, floor by floor. The Scot took the time to explain to Richie what he was looking for and the problems he found. By the time they got to the top floor, it was the younger man who started pointing out where the possible problems were. 

Once they were done looking everything over, Duncan chatted with Mike for a few moments, finding out the asking price for the building and how much property taxes were. Then he and Richie headed for home. 

"So, what did you think of the place?" Duncan asked casually. 

Richie shrugged. "It needs a lot of work if you want to open it up as a gym." He began to list off the problems they had found. "New wiring, and a new water heater, to say nothing about all the equipment you'd need. I don't know what all that would cost but it doesn't sound cheap. It would take you a long time to get your money out of the business." 

"Well, I've got the time," Duncan said, grinning. 

"Only if no one takes your head." 

"True." 

"Are you going to run the place yourself?" Richie asked. 

"No. I'll get a manager - preferably one willing to live in. That way, I wouldn't have to pay a huge salary and I'd have someone to keep an eye on the place at night." 

Richie nodded. "That makes sense. You probably won't have too much trouble finding someone. That second floor apartment would make a nice place to live." 

Duncan was somewhat surprised that Richie hadn't asked for the job. He probably didn't think he was good enough to do it. He held back offering him the position since he still needed to figure out how much this was going to cost him. 

***** 

After returning to the shop, Duncan headed directly for the office, beckoning to Richie to follow him. He opened the safe and pulled out the required amount of money from the stash he kept there in case of emergencies. "Here you go. Now you can go buy your bike. Do you need a lift?" 

"That would be great, Mac. Let me give him a call and see if he's going to be around. I have his number in my room." Richie dashed off, and returned five minutes later, helmet in hand. "He said if we came now, he'd wait for me." 

"Let me just check with Tessa first," Duncan said. After getting her agreement to continue watching the shop, they headed for the T-bird. He followed the young man's directions until they arrived at a small motorcycle repair shop. 

"There it is," Richie said, pointing out a red motorcycle. "C'mon, Mac." 

It was the invitation the Scot had been waiting for. He'd be able to check out the bike before Richie paid for it. He hadn't wanted to offer to do it in case the young man thought he didn't trust him to buy it on his own. 

Richie practically stripped down the bike as he showed it off. It didn't take long for Duncan to realize that the young man knew motorcycles. "You seem to know your stuff," he finally commented. 

"Yeah, I had a friend who raced motorcycles. A few days after I saw you take that guy's head on Soldier's Bridge, he joined a team and went off to do the racing circuit. I figured getting out of Dodge was a pretty good idea at the time so I asked if I could go along. They needed some cheap labor so they agreed. It didn't pay much and it was hard work, but I got to hang around with the mechanics a lot. I managed to pick up a little bit from that." 

"I'd say you picked up more than just a little bit," Duncan said. He was surprised that the young man had volunteered so much information. It was the first glimpse he'd had into Richie's private life. It was also nice to know why he hadn't been able to find the teenager three years before. "Why didn't you try to get a job working with motorcycles?" 

"I wanted to, but the bigger places want experience and I can't exactly furnish references since I wasn't hired as a mechanic. And the smaller places are usually one-person outfits. So, what do you think of it?" 

"It looks really good," Duncan said, nodding his approval. It wasn't the best bike, but it should get Richie from one place to another. "Why don't you pay the man so we can go home." 

***** 

For the next few days, Richie put himself out offering to run errands. It was all Duncan and Tessa could do to keep their smiles hidden at his eagerness to be out on his bike. The Scot even had him make some unnecessary trips just to give the young man a reason to take his bike. 

Richie worked each night that weekend, always coming in during the early hours of the morning. Unfortunately, he had to get up early on Monday because of his new job. He barely had his eyes open when he stumbled out of his bedroom. 

Knowing that he wouldn't have much time to eat, Duncan already had a cup of coffee poured and an omelet ready to be served. The young man gulped down the food, mumbling his thanks through a full mouth. Glancing at the clock, he jumped to his feet. 

"Gotta go." 

Tessa stopped him at the door and handed him a small cooler bag. "I packed a lunch for you. It should stay cold enough until then." 

Richie's mouth dropped open for a second before he mumbled a thank you. He took the bag and dashed out the back door. 

"I think you managed to surprise him," Duncan said as he gave Tessa a light kiss. 

"I just didn't want him to have to go hungry or waste his money on junk food. I do hope I packed enough." 

"Well, if you didn't you can add more tomorrow. I assume you do intend to keep this up?" Duncan asked with a grin. 

"For a while, anyway. Once he gets used to this early hour of the morning, he can pack his own." 

Duncan wisely refused to comment. Somehow, he had a feeling Tessa would be making Richie's lunch for quite some time. And it wouldn't be because the young man didn't want to make it himself, either. He wasn't sure if it had been a conscious decision on her part or not, but she had quickly taken to mothering Ryan. The maternal role suited her - she should have had her own kids to tend to. 

The Scot spent a good part of the morning doing more cost calculations on the repairs needed to the building. He finally called his friend and had him make an offer to buy the place - at considerably less than the asking price. While he could afford it, he didn't see any reason to pay more than necessary. The building had been on the market for quite some time, so there was a good chance he could get a better deal on it. 

His friend seemed somewhat incredulous that Duncan wanted to buy the place, and offered to show him some real estate in a better part of town. The Scot held firm, and the agent finally conceded, muttering the old saying about a fool and his money. 

***** 

Richie hadn't come home by the time Duncan closed the antique store for the day. He wasn't worried at that point, even though the young man should have been off work an hour earlier. Knowing him, he was probably cruising around on his bike. However, when two more hours passed without a sign of him, the Scot couldn't help but start worrying. 

They waited a while on dinner, hoping Richie would show up. Eventually, he and Tessa started eating, although neither appeared to have much of an appetite. 

"Maybe you should go look for him," Tessa suggested as they started clearing the table. 

"He's an adult, Tessa. He's got a right to stay out as long as he wants. After all, it's only been a little over four hours." 

"What if he met another Immortal?" She kept her head down, paying close attention to the plate she was rinsing. 

It was his worst fear, but he couldn't tell her that. "I've discussed this with Richie. He's supposed to either come here or go to holy ground, but if he doesn't, then there's not much I can do about it." 

Tessa sighed. "No, I suppose not, but it doesn't stop me from worrying about him." 

He went over and hugged her from behind. "Or me, either." 

Twenty minutes later, Duncan felt the touch of another Immortal. He made sure his katana was nearby, but didn't leave his seat on the couch. A few moments later, Richie walked into the apartment, his exhaustion evident in every step. 

Tessa jumped to her feet. "Richie, where have you been? We've been so worried about you." 

A startled look crossed the young man's face. "I'm sorry. I had to work overtime today." 

"Why didn't you call?" she asked. 

"I guess I didn't think about it. I've never had anyone worry about when I'd be home before." 

Duncan took note of the fact that Richie had referred to the apartment as home, and was secretly pleased. 

"I kept a plate of food for you," Tessa said as she moved toward the kitchen. "It won't take long to reheat." 

Richie slowly shook his head. "I'm not hungry." 

Duncan stood up and moved closer, carefully checking out the young man's condition. There was nothing to indicate he'd been in a fight. He just looked like he was on his last leg. "Did something happen? Another Immortal?" he asked quietly. 

"No. I'm just tired, that's all. The work was a lot harder than I thought it would be - especially twelve hours of it." 

"You shouldn't have worked extra hours," Tessa scolded. "After all, it was your first day on the job." 

The young man sighed. "I wasn't going to, but one of the guys told me if you turned down overtime then you were always the last one they'd ever ask again. I could really use the money." 

"No money is worth this," Tessa said with a scowl. "Now, I want you to go take a hot shower while I make you something light to eat. You need to keep your strength up." 

For a moment, Duncan thought the young man would argue, but he gave in without a struggle. He plodded off to his bedroom while Tessa continued on into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she had vegetable beef soup heating on the stove. The Scot helped out by cutting some thick slices of bread and placing them on the table along with a large glass of milk. 

Ten minutes later, Richie came back out of his room, his hair still dripping wet. He collapsed into his chair at the dining room table, and propped his head up with his hand. "I can't believe how tired I am." 

"It's not too difficult to believe. After all, it's only been a little over two weeks that you've been eating regularly. Anything too strenuous is going to really take it out of you for a while." 

The young man sighed. "I guess." 

Tessa brought over a bowl of soup. "Try to eat this, Richie. It should make you feel better." 

Richie slowly started eating, but it didn't take long before he picked up his pace. He managed to empty the bowl before pushing back from the table. "Thanks, Tessa, that did help." 

"You're welcome. Now, I think you should go to bed. You didn't get much sleep last night." 

"Yeah, I'm going to have to see if I can get off earlier on Sundays. I can't work that late and still make it to this job on Monday." 

"That would be a good idea," Duncan agreed, glad that he didn't have to make the suggestion. 

***** 

Tuesday morning was a repeat of the previous day. Richie emerged from his room with just enough time to gulp down the breakfast that Duncan had already prepared. Tessa handed him his lunch bag, and he was off. 

However, unlike the previous day, Richie got off work on time. He arrived back at the apartment before closing, and joined Duncan in the store. A lone customer was wandering around looking at various items. 

"How was work?" Duncan asked. 

"Better. It was still hard work, but I made it through." 

"Well, it was four hours less today. That will make a big difference." 

Richie frowned. "Hey, Mac, your customer just boosted a figurine." 

"She what?" 

The young man gave him an exasperated look. "She just shoplifted." 

Duncan looked at the well-dressed woman who appeared to be in her thirties. "Are you sure?" 

"I *know* what I saw! I've done it often enough myself to recognize the technique. Check it out. She took some kind of figurine from the second shelf of the display case and stuck it in her purse." 

Duncan was still skeptical, but decided it would be worth checking out. "I'll be right back." He casually strolled over toward the customer. She had moved on, so he carefully glanced at the shelf, trying to remember what had been on display. 

He finally decided that something was missing - a small jade figurine of Kuan Yin. There was a chance that Tessa had sold it while he hadn't been here, but he was fairly certain it had been there that morning. By this time the customer was headed for the front door. Before Duncan had a chance to do anything, Richie blocked her way, grabbing her arm. 

"I think you forgot something," the young man said. "Like paying for the stuff you have stashed in your purse." 

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied as she tried to break free. "Let me go!" 

"No way, sister. No one gets away with stealing from my friends while I'm around." 

Duncan didn't have time to enjoy the pleased feeling that statement caused. He wanted to avert the battle that was shaping up by the front door and hurriedly joined them. "Why don't you step into our office while we discuss this?" he suggested. 

The woman looked affronted. "What kind of place is this? Do you always accost your customers this way? I'm amazed you've managed to stay in business if you do." 

"Why don't you just call the cops, Mac. I'll keep an eye on her," Richie said. "She's not going anywhere." 

"Please, do call the police. I want to file an assault charge against this... this hoodlum." She turned to Duncan. "And you'd better be prepared for a major lawsuit! I have never felt so insulted and humiliated in my entire life." 

For a moment, Duncan hesitated. Most criminals didn't want the police to be involved. Still, the threat of a lawsuit did seem slightly overboard, even in today's sue-crazy society. "Yes, I think we'll just let the police settle this," he said, deciding to see if she was bluffing. He thought he glimpsed a brief flash of fear in her eyes. 

She glanced at her watch. "On second thought, I don't really have time for this. I'm willing to forget this whole distasteful incident if you are. However, you can rest assured that I will never patronize this establishment again, nor will my friends." She tried to slip past Richie, but he was too fast for her. 

"You're not going anywhere," the young man growled. 

In a quick move, she swung her purse around and hit him on the side of the knee. Richie yelled and crashed to the floor clutching his leg, while she made a dash for the front door. Duncan managed to get there before her, and she tried the same move on him. Having seen her pull that on the younger Immortal, he was prepared and yanked the purse away. Surprised at its heavy weight, he let it go and it thudded to the floor. Holding her arm tightly, he escorted her back to the office where he promptly called the police. Richie limped into the office a few moments later, carrying the purse. She looked stunned at seeing him on his feet. "She must have a brick or something in here," he muttered, setting it down on the desk. 

"We'll let the police search it," Duncan said. "They should be here soon." 

It took ten minutes for the police to arrive. Richie showed them back to the office where Duncan explained everything that happened. A quick search of the purse revealed not only the Kuan Yin statue, but two other pieces of jade that the Scot recognized. The police also found a heavy brass plaque that was responsible for the weight. 

"You're lucky this didn't break your kneecap," the officer commented. 

Duncan knew it probably had, but with Richie's healing ability there would be no evidence of an injury now. "Yes, he was very lucky." 

The officers finished filling out their report, read the woman her rights, and handcuffed her. One of them escorted her toward the front door, while the other one had Duncan and Richie sign the reports. 

"We'll have to take these pieces in for evidence," the officer said. 

"Be sure you get a receipt for them," Richie advised. 

An annoyed look crossed the officer's face. "That won't be necessary." 

Duncan gave him a deprecating smile. "Just to keep my insurance agent happy. Those three pieces are worth over five thousand dollars." He quickly filled out a paper describing the items and had the officer sign them. Then he carefully wrapped them up and placed them in a box. 

A few moments later, the Scot closed and locked the front door behind the officer. He returned to the office and found Richie flexing his knee. "All healed?" 

"Yeah. Did you see the look on her face when I walked in?" Richie snickered. "I bet she thought I'd be in the hospital by now." He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and counted out five twenty-dollar bills. "Here's the money I owe you from the first loan. I'll try to pay you at least this much each week towards the money for my bike." 

Duncan stared at the money for several long moments. "I feel like I should be paying you. You just saved me a lot of money by spotting that woman shoplifting." 

Richie shrugged. "Probably not all that much. Your insurance company would have covered part of the loss. You can just consider it a thank you for all the stuff you've done for me. What's for dinner? I'm starving!" 

Duncan recognized the fact that Richie was trying to change the subject, but he let him get away with it. "I don't know. It's Tessa's turn to cook. Let's go see what she has planned." 

***** 

After dinner, Duncan asked Richie if he felt up to working out. 

"Sure, Mac. No problem." 

"Go get changed then," Duncan said, heading for his own bedroom to follow suit. 

"Before you go," Tessa called after them. "I am going to do laundry. If you have any dirty clothes, bring them out with you. That goes for you, too, Richie." 

The young man shuffled his feet nervously. "That's not necessary, Tessa. I can do my own laundry later." 

"I might as well do yours at the same time I do the rest," Tessa replied. "That way it saves time as well as money - by combining the loads, it takes less water and electricity." 

Duncan had a feeling she was up to something, but wasn't quite sure what. There was no reason for her to worry about the small cost of water or electricity involved in doing laundry. 

"Well..." Richie looked at the Scot for support, but Duncan just shrugged his shoulders. "Well, okay. Thanks, Tessa." 

Ten minutes later, dirty clothes delivered to the laundry room, they were on their way. Once at the warehouse, Duncan led Richie through a series of stretching exercises before actually beginning to spar. It wasn't a good session. The young Immortal seemed to struggle with moves he'd already learned. 

The Scot finally called a break, sensing the young man's rising frustration level. 

"This is a waste of time!" Richie burst out. "I'll never be able to do this! I don't know why you're even bothering with me." He spun around, placing his back to the Highlander. 

Duncan took a few deep breaths while he struggled with what to say. "Give it some time, Richie. You can't expect to learn how to fight with swords overnight. It took me a long time to learn how to do it and I was practically raised with a sword in my hand. I know it doesn't seem like it, but you are improving." 

Richie turned back around, a hopeless expression on his face. "How long, Mac? Years? Decades? Centuries? How long is it going to take? How long are you going to be willing to give up your time to train me?" 

"As long as it takes." 

The simple answer seemed to stun the young Immortal. He just gaped at Duncan with mouth open. 

"I won't abandon you, Richie." 

"Why not? Everyone else I've ever known has." The bitterness seemed to drip off his words. 

"I'm not like everyone else," Duncan stated firmly. 

Richie stared at him for the longest time. "No, you're not. I've never met anyone like you - or Tessa - before. You've given me a nice place to live, loaned me money, and spent your free time trying to train me. Wouldn't it have been easier to just take my head right away?" 

"Sure, it would have been easier, but not half as rewarding. Immortals are a solitary lot due to The Game, but you *can* develop friendships that span the centuries. I've known Connor for close to four hundred years. There is something special about the relationship of teacher and student. I have hopes that we can develop a friendship that will survive the years, as well." 

"But why would you want a friendship with me?" Richie asked, a slight quaver in his voice. "I'm nobody." 

"That's not true! You *are* somebody and I already value our friendship. I don't want you to quit now. I want to continue training you until you're strong enough to stand on your own. I want to know that years from now I can turn to you for support, if necessary." 

"Why would you need *my* support?" 

"Tessa's not like us, Richie. Some day she's going to die." Even the thought sent a shaft of pain to his heart. "I've been through this before. I'll need the support of my friends - especially the ones that have known her. Right now, that's you and Connor. I'll want someone I can reminisce with." 

Richie nodded. "I'll be there for you." He made it sound like a solemn vow. 

"I know you will." Duncan took a deep breath and tried to push away the emotions that were still overwhelming him. "But first you need to learn to fight. Let's try again." 

Duncan finally called it quits after another thirty minutes. Richie's mind seemed to be somewhere else, and they weren't accomplishing much. 

"Okay, Richie, what's so important that you can't pay attention to your training?" he asked in exasperation. 

The young man flushed slightly. "I guess I got to thinking about something you said." He paused for a moment and looked embarrassed, shuffling around on his feet. "I guess I never really thought too much about Tessa being mortal. She's going to keep getting older, but you're not. What do you do when people think she's your mother - or your grandmother? How do you handle that?" 

Duncan sighed. "I love her, Richie. Somehow, we'll work it out. To be honest, I've never really faced this before. I've had mortal friends who I've watched grow from children to old men, but I've never been with a lover that long. There have been very few women that I've wanted to spend a lifetime with. The last one was over a hundred years ago, but she was killed when soldiers massacred everyone. So, I don't know what it will be like with Tessa. All I know is I want to spend as much time with her as possible. I don't think it will matter what other people might think." 

"I guess, but it's still going to be tough to do." 

"Yes, but I wouldn't give up these years with her. Someday, you may feel the same way about a special woman, too - at least I hope you will." 

"I hope so, too." 

Duncan placed an arm around the young man's shoulders. "Let's go home." 

They found Tessa sitting in the living room with an apprehensive look on her face. When they came in the door, she jumped to her feet. "Oh, Richie, I am *so* sorry. It was an accident." She pointed a finger at a pile of clothes sitting on the dining room table. "I spilled paint all over your clothes!" 

A panicked expression crossed the young man's face and he hurried over to the table. He selected one of his shirts and held it up. White splotches stood out against the blue of the shirt. He tossed it down and picked up another, then another. Each one was similarly decorated. Both pairs of jeans had escaped the worst of the paint with only a few tiny marks to indicate they'd been part of the disaster. 

"My clothes," he moaned as he pawed through the pile again. 

"I tried to clean them up, but I was too late. Fortunately, your good pants and shirt were on the bottom of the pile so they didn't get any paint on them. I am so sorry." 

Duncan really expected Richie to explode and, for a moment, it looked like he would. Then the young man gathered up the clothes in his arms. "It's okay, Tessa. I know you didn't mean to do it," he said with a crestfallen look on his face. 

Tessa seemed surprised for a moment. "Thank you for understanding. However, since it was all my fault, I went out and bought you some new clothes. They are in the dryer now. It was the least I could do." 

Duncan had been trying to figure out how Tessa could have spilled paint on any clothes at all, but suddenly it was very clear. She had needed a good reason to buy Richie new clothes and she wouldn't be above a little trickery to get her way. 

"You didn't have to do that," Richie protested. 

"Yes, I did," Tessa replied adamantly. "It was my fault and you shouldn't have to suffer because of me. You can't wear those shirts anymore. The jeans can be worn when you are working, but you need to have something to wear for other times. Now then, why don't you go take a shower and I will check to see if they are finished drying." 

Duncan beat Richie back to the living room by a few minutes. "I hope you have a good story concocted," he murmured in her ear. 

She gave him a haughty look. "I don't know what you are talking about." 

"Oh, I think you do," he said with a wide grin. "You are a very devious woman, but I love you anyway." 

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Maybe you love me *because* I am a devious woman," she replied, smiling back at him. 

"Maybe." He gave her a quick kiss then pulled back when he heard Richie's bedroom door open. 

Tessa released him and turned to greet the young man. "Come see what I bought, Richie." She led the way to the dining room table and the two men followed along. 

"I bought two pairs of jeans to replace the ones I ruined," she explained, waving at the pile of clothes. "However, I couldn't decide which shirts you would like so I followed my normal shopping philosophy and bought all the ones I liked." 

Duncan chuckled. "So that's why you always end up buying so many clothes," he teased her. 

"I hate making decisions like that," she said, sticking out her tongue at him before turning back to Richie. "Do you like them?" 

The young Immortal had been looking through the clothes. While nicer than his old attire, they weren't overly expensive, either. "Yeah, but I only had four shirts - there are eight of them here. You should take half of them back." 

"Oh, I can't do that. I have already washed them. I wanted to be sure you had something to wear to work tomorrow. Besides, this will teach me a lesson. I will not be so careless next time." 

"How *did* you spill paint on my clothes, anyway?" Richie asked with a slightly suspicious tone. 

"I had the dark clothes - yours and Duncan's - on the top of the dryer while the first load was in the washer. I decided to touch up some paint on the wall above the dryer. I keep forgetting to do it and it just seemed like a good time to do it while I was waiting." 

It was the first time Duncan had heard anything about any touch-up painting being needed, but he didn't point that out. "And you dropped the paint and it went all over Richie's clothes, but not mine." 

"I wouldn't have dropped the paint if a mouse hadn't run over my foot." 

"A mouse?" Duncan's eyebrows rose in question. 

"A mouse," Tessa repeated. "Needless to say, I was a little startled and I dropped the paint. Unfortunately, Richie's clothes were on the top of the pile and got the worst of it." 

"Do you want me to get some mousetraps and set them?" Richie asked. 

"That would be nice. I don't want to share my home with a rodent. Thank you, Richie." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I will go put these clothes away in your room." 

After she had left the room, Richie turned to Duncan. "How much do you want to bet that there was no mouse?" he asked with a knowing grin. 

"Are you calling Tessa a liar?" Duncan tried to paste an affronted look on his face. 

"Noooo. However, she'd make a great con artist." 

"If you thought her story was made up, why didn't you call her on it?" Duncan asked, curious to hear his reasons for going along with Tessa. 

Richie shrugged. "You have to give her points for creativity. It must have taken her a while to come up with that story. I figured if she was that determined to buy me new clothes, I might as well give in. I know a lost cause when I see one." 

Duncan placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "Thanks for going along with it. I was afraid you would let your pride get in the way." 

"I'll just think of it as an early birthday gift." 

"Oh? When's your birthday?" Duncan asked. 

"September 20th, but I'm not expecting anything," Richie quickly assured him. "I'm used to not celebrating it at all." 

"Let's see... You'll be twenty-one this year, right?" 

Richie nodded. "Yeah, old enough to drink legally - finally." 

Tessa rejoined them and Duncan changed the topic. He'd wait until he was alone with her so they could start plotting. He intended to make this birthday one that Richie would remember for a long time. "Have you ever played chess?" he asked. 

When Richie shook his head, Duncan retrieved his set and started to teach him how to play. Tessa settled herself on the couch and watched them. For the first time, the three of them spent a companionable evening together. Hopefully, it would be the first of many. 

***** 

The next few days settled into a pattern. Every morning, Richie barely made it out of his bedroom in time to eat breakfast before rushing to work. Duncan ran the antique store with occasional help from Tessa. The rest of the time, she worked on her art. The two Immortals practiced every night, then returned home and played chess. 

It didn't take long for Duncan to decide it was time for Richie to be more open about his past. To set the stage, he spent the first few nights recounting tales from his life. Sometimes, the young Immortal laughed so hard - especially when the story involved Fitzcairn - that he had a difficult time remaining upright. 

Duncan also talked about the harder times in his life such as his first death, and the subsequent banishment from the clan. He briefly touched on the many wars he had been in, and how he'd begun to hate the killing. 

Finally, on Thursday night, the Highlander turned the tables. It seemed the perfect opportunity since Tessa had decided to do some sketching in her workshop. He hoped the young man would be more open if she wasn't around. "Enough about my life. Your turn, Richie," he said, casually. 

The young man's eyes grew wide and he turned pale. "What do you mean?" 

"I don't know anything at all about your life. Why don't you tell me about it?" 

Richie bent his head and diligently studied the chess board. "There's nothing to tell," he mumbled. 

"I'm sure that's not true," Duncan protested. If Richie wouldn't volunteer any information, maybe he would answer questions. "What about your time with the motorcycle racing team? How long did you travel with them?" 

"About nine months." 

"Did they go anywhere interesting? Or was it just here in Washington?" 

"No, we went all over the place." 

Duncan sighed. This wasn't going well. "Such as?" 

"Oh, we headed down the coast. Did Oregon and California. Went down into Mexico for a while, then back up into Arizona, then New Mexico." 

"Why did you leave them? You made it sound like you enjoyed the work." 

"I did, but, well... the team didn't win many races. The ones it did win had pretty small purses. They couldn't make ends meet. One night, the guy who owned the team had us stop at a motel in the middle of nowhere and insisted that we all get rooms for the night, his treat. The next morning he was gone - along with the bikes, the truck, and all the equipment. He also didn't pay for the rooms." 

"So, what happened?" 

"Well, the mechanic and the two guys who rode the bikes called their families and had them wire enough money to pay for their rooms and a bus ticket home." 

"And you?" 

"I didn't have anyone to call," Richie said in a low voice. He took a deep breath before continuing. "The motel owner decided to 'teach a punk like me a lesson' so he pressed charges. I guess I got lucky 'cause the judge was lenient. I had to do thirty days of 'community service'. During the day, I had to work with the crews repairing the local roads and I spent the nights in the local jail." 

"That seems like a pretty tough sentence for one night's stay in a hotel," Duncan pointed out. 

"Yeah, but after it was over, the judge wiped my record clean and gave me a bus ticket to Phoenix. He didn't have to do that." 

"No, I guess not." It still didn't sound right, but there wasn't much he could do about it. "So, what did you do then?" 

A flush crept over the young man's cheeks. "I did what I had to do to survive." 

Duncan had an idea of what that might have involved, but didn't want to push Richie for details. The young man had other ideas, though. The words just seemed to spill out. 

"I did try to find a job, but I didn't have much luck. So, I started with shoplifting and picking pockets. It would have been different if I'd been around here. I have contacts here, but not down in Arizona so I didn't know where I could safely unload stolen goods. I could never score enough to get home. Hell, I had a hard time scoring enough to be able to eat and have a place to stay. I finally hooked up with a guy who ran a chop shop, and I started stealing cars for him. It paid better than picking pockets. Well, one day, I boosted the wrong car. The cops came along while I was doing it and started chasing me." 

"Did they catch you?" Duncan asked quietly. Richie seemed to need to talk, and the Scot was willing to listen. 

Richie shook his head. "It was close, though. I was able to ditch the car, and get away on foot - I knew the alleys better than the cops. I don't think I stopped shaking for two days. I figured I'd better try something else for a while. It's a good thing, because the chop shop got raided a week later. I decided it was time to leave town." 

"Where did you go?" 

"I just started hitchhiking. Ended up in Flagstaff for a while, then I moved on to California. I hadn't planned on staying there at all. The trucker who picked me up was on his way to Oregon. I figured if I could get that close to home, that I'd be able to make it the rest of the way without a problem. However, the trucker decided he wanted... payment for giving me a ride." He shuddered at the memory. 

Duncan almost flinched at the raw pain in the young man's eyes. He didn't know what to say or do that would help. "Did he get his payment?" he asked, a deadly tone filling his voice. He'd probably be able to track down the trucker and make him regret his decision. 

Richie took a shaky breath. "No, I knew a few dirty tricks to use. You tend to learn those kinds of things when you live on the streets. However, I found myself in the middle of nowhere again. I wasn't too interested in hitchhiking again. There was a campground near where I was dumped, so I hung around there for a while. I'd steal food from people's campsites when they'd go off for a hike. I made sure I never took enough to be noticed. It was a tough way to live." 

"I'm sure it was," Duncan agreed. "Where did you sleep?" 

"There was a building that had showers in it. There was a small loft or attic or something above the showers. I slept there. I always had to be careful that no one saw me going in or out. One day, I got caught breaking into an RV. The couple were real nice, though. They were on their way to Los Angeles to see their grandkids. I told them I had run away from an abusive father and was on my way to my grandma's in LA. They bought it, hook, line, and sinker. She made me a hot meal, then they offered to take me with them. They even let me help drive." 

"Sounds like nice people. How did you produce a grandmother when you got to LA?" 

"I didn't. I said I wanted to buy some new clothes so I wouldn't look so bad. They even loaned me some money. I felt kinda guilty taking it. I picked out some clothes and told them I would try them on, but instead I left the store. I never did see them again. I wish I had some way to pay them back." A wistful look crossed his face. 

"Do you know where they live?" 

"Not really. I know they were from Lansing, Michigan, but that's it." 

"Maybe we can find an address on the internet," Duncan suggested. 

"I'd like that," Richie said with a small smile. 

"So, how was Los Angeles?" 

Richie shrugged. "Lots of drugs. Lots of runaways. Expensive." 

"Did you use drugs?" Duncan managed to keep his tone casual, but it wasn't easy. He didn't think Richie had a drug habit now, but it would be easy to slip back into, given a chance. 

"Nope. Didn't have the money for starters. Plus, I've seen what drugs can do to you. They really mess up your mind. I decided I'd try to go straight for a while. I figured there had to be lots of jobs in that big a town." 

"And did you find one?"

"Found lots of them. I tried lawn care, pool cleaning, pizza delivery, and washing dishes. None of them paid enough to cover the rent without having roommates. I got burned there, too. You never knew when someone would move out without paying for their share of the phone or utility bills. It was awful." 

"Weren't there any good parts?" Duncan asked. The growing sense of guilt made his stomach churn. If he'd only been able to find Richie three years ago... 

"Yeah, there were good times. Sun, beaches, and girls, for starters." He gave a rakish grin before sobering again. "It just seemed like the bad times overwhelmed the good times." 

Duncan nodded. "I understand that. Just don't forget the good times, Rich. They are important, too."

The young man's eyes dropped, hiding them from Duncan's views. "I won't forget this time," he mumbled. 

The Highlander reached across the table and squeezed Richie's shoulder for a moment. "I won't forget this either." 

"Yeah, that's me... unforgettable," Richie said with a small, deprecating laugh. 

"That's not what I mean," Duncan said, "and you know it." 

"Thanks, Mac." Richie gave him another shy smile. 

"So, what happened then? Did you stay in Los Angeles?" 

"No, I got fed up with it after about a eighteen months and headed north after I got fired for about the tenth time. I got as far as Portland before I stopped." 

"Why did you get fired?" 

"I was delivering pizza at the time, and a customer said that I had short-changed him. I just miscounted, Mac, that's all. When the guy pointed it out, I gave him the correct change. He couldn't let it go, though, and he called my boss and complained. Next thing I know I was being fired. They said they'd been getting lots of complaints about the same thing. It must have been one of the other drivers, because it wasn't me. I swear!" 

"I believe you." 

"Thanks. Anyway, by that time, I figured why bother trying to go straight. It hadn't gotten me anywhere, so I went back to a life of crime. I got involved in a bad crowd in Portland. They'd steal cars just to drag race, then dump them. That's how I died." 

Duncan kept silent, waiting to see if he would go on. He wasn't disappointed. 

"Something went wrong that night. I blew a tire and my car went off the road. I don't know how many times it rolled. Everything hurt, and there was so much blood. I knew I was going to die. My so-called friends were more worried about getting caught by the cops than getting help for me. They left me alone to die." Richie's voice cracked on the last word. 

Without even thinking, Duncan was on his feet and around to the other side of the table. He pulled the younger man up and hugged him tightly. "No one should have to die alone," the Highlander said, roughly. He could feel Richie trembling in his arms. 

They stood that way for a long time, before Richie calmed down again. He pulled away and Duncan released him. 

"There's not much more to tell after that. I woke back up and was healed. For some reason, I thought about that night on Soldier's Bridge, so I headed here. It took a little while, but I made it." 

"I'm glad you did," Duncan said. "I'd hate to think you were out there wandering around, not knowing what you were." 

"Yeah, I think I finally did something right." 

Duncan glanced at the clock and was shocked to see it was almost midnight. "It's late, Richie. You're going to have a hard time getting out of bed in the morning. But if you want to keep talking, I'm willing to listen all night." 

Richie gave a shaky laugh. "No, I think I've talked enough for one night. I can't give up all my secrets at one time." 

"Whenever you want to talk, I'll be here," Duncan said, lightly squeezing the young man's shoulder again. 

"Thanks, Mac. I might take you up on that. Good night." 

"Good night, Richie. Sleep well." 

Five minutes after the young Immortal had gone into his bedroom, Tessa appeared in the doorway leading to her workshop. She quickly moved across the room and almost threw herself into Duncan's arms. He pulled back slightly and noticed her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. 

"You heard, didn't you?" 

She nodded. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I decided I wanted a glass of wine, but then I heard you two talking. I didn't want to interrupt, but I couldn't leave, either. So, I sat out there on the steps and listened. It was so horrible. How could his friends have left him alone?" 

"They obviously weren't friends. He's with us, now. Just keep reminding yourself of that. We need to show him what true friends are like, and I think we've made a good start already." 

Tessa nodded. "Yes, I agree. We need to think of other things to do for him, though." 

"Like for his birthday?" Duncan gave her a knowing grin. 

"Birthday? His birthday is soon?" 

He could almost see the wheels start turning. He was glad - it would give her something else to concentrate on. "Yes, in just a few weeks. We need to plan something big." 

"Let me think about it," she said. 

"Tomorrow. For now, I want to go to bed. I need to feel you in my arms." It would help him forget the things he'd learned that night - at least for a while. 

***** 

The next morning, while eating breakfast, the young Immortal kept his eyes down, focusing solely on his plate of food. Duncan watched him silently for a while before saying anything. 

"If this is about what you told me last night," he started, "there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about." 

Richie slowly looked up, no emotion showing on his face. "So you're not going to hold my past against me?" 

"We've talked about this before. Whatever you did before you came here was a previous life. You've started a new life here and, so far, you're doing a pretty good job of it. Besides, a little bit of petty crime is nothing compared to some of the things I've done in previous lives." There had been so much killing and death in his four hundred years. Times when revenge had seemed the only thing worth living for. 

A flicker of interest crossed the young man's face. "Like what?" 

"We'll talk about it some other time. It's not exactly something I want to discuss over the breakfast table." 

Richie returned his attention to his breakfast and silence reigned at the table for a while. He finally looked up at the Scot again and asked, "What about Tessa? Will she feel the same way about my past? Or will she ask me to leave when she finds out?" 

"No, she won't ask you to leave. I'm sure of that." Duncan couldn't decide whether he should tell Richie that Tessa already knew everything. He wasn't sure how the young Immortal would react. 

Richie took a shaky breath. "Okay, if you say so." He glanced at the clock. "Gotta go or I'm going to be late." 

***** 

Later that day, Duncan signed the final papers to buy the dojo building. He wouldn't get possession for at least thirty days, but he could start making plans. He also decided it was time to figure out what sword he was going to give to his student. The katana Richie was currently using was fine for practicing, but the Scot wanted to give him a better blade. 

While he had several fine swords in his personal collection, none of them were what he had in mind for his student. One possibility was a basket-hilt rapier, but Richie seemed to do better with a two-handed grip. Of course, he could give him one of the bastard swords he owned. These were hand-and-a-half swords that would also work, but they tended to be heavy. It would take some time before the young Immortal could wield one of those. 

The best choice would be a katana like the one he was currently practicing with. However, he didn't have any that he felt were good enough for Richie. He also didn't have time to be running around the world trying to find one. He reached for the phone, knowing one person he could trust to find the perfect sword for him. 

Connor agreed to help out, and Duncan set the phone back down with a sense of accomplishment. If all went well, he could give Richie the sword as a birthday gift. It would be one of many gifts the young man would receive on his special day. He would also use the special occasion to offer Richie the job of managing the dojo. Now, he only needed to come up with a more personal gift. 

Richie breezed into the shop after work, but didn't pause to talk. He had to hurry if he wanted to shower and eat before heading to his other job. Tessa caught the young man's arm as he was headed out the door. 

"Richie, could you try to get next Saturday off? That's the opening night of my show, and I would like you to be there," she said. 

A startled look crossed the young man's face. "I'll try, Tessa, but I can't promise anything. Saturdays are their busiest night." 

"Well, do try. I really could use your support. I am always so nervous - especially on opening nights. It would be nice to have another friendly face there." 

Duncan had to turn away to hide his grin. He didn't remember her being nervous at her last show. She just wanted to get Richie into a tuxedo. 

"I'll try," Richie promised before hurrying out the door. 

***** 

Richie managed to get out of bed the next morning before ten - a fairly unusual occurrence for a Saturday morning. Before Duncan had a chance to work out a plan for the day with him, the young Immortal disappeared out the back door. When asked, Tessa admitted she didn't know where he had gone, either. 

Fifty minutes later, the young man returned home, a bounce in his step and a broad smile on his face. "You're in a good mood," Duncan said, when Richie joined him in the office. 

"Yep. Yesterday was payday." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, then counted out seven twenty dollar bills. Richie handed them over with a flourish. "Here's the first payment on my bike. I figure if I pay you this much each week, I'll have it paid off in four more weeks." 

Duncan frowned at the money that was practically being shoved in his face. "There's no rush in paying me back. Why don't you spend some of the money on something for you?" 

Richie placed the money on the desk. "I'm spending the money on something for me - the bike, remember? I'm going to buy a few other things, too. And," with a big grin, he pulled something out of his other back pocket and waved it in the air, "I have a savings account! Ta da! I'm a man of means now!" 

Duncan couldn't help smiling at the young man's enthusiasm. "Your first bank account?" 

"Yep." Richie opened the book and looked down at it proudly. "It's not much but it's a start." 

"Congratulations, Richie. That's quite an accomplishment. When you're ready, I'll also show you a few tricks about investing your money. When you can live for a very long time, it helps to have a few nest eggs scattered around." 

"Thanks, Mac. I'm going to go tell Tessa. Oh, and I'd better check that mousetrap I set yesterday." He winked at the Highlander before bouncing out of the office. 

He returned a few minutes later with a surprised look on his face. 

"What's wrong?" Duncan asked. 

"I caught a mouse," he replied. "Do you think Tessa was telling the truth after all?" 

Duncan burst out laughing. "We'll probably never know." 

***** 

On Sunday, Richie announced that he had managed to shift around his work schedule. "I had to agree to work Wednesday and Thursday to get the guy to change with me, but I did it." 

"Thank you, Richie. I really appreciate it," Tessa said. "As soon as you get off work tomorrow, Duncan can go with you to the tuxedo shop. We will pay the rental costs, of course, since you are doing this as a favor to me." 

"Tuxedo!" The young man's voice escalated in panic. "I don't need to wear a tuxedo, do I?" He turned pleading eyes toward Duncan. 

The Scot just shrugged. "If I have to, you have to. And don't try to get out of it now. You've already agreed to come." 

"Oh, maaaaan." Richie rolled his eyes before glaring at Tessa. "You tricked me!" 

"How could I trick you? I invited you to my art show, and you agreed to come." Tessa gave him an innocent smile. "There was no trick involved." 

***** 

The next Saturday came too soon for the young Immortal. Duncan hadn't seen much of him during the past few days, other than brief glimpses as Richie hurried off to one of his two jobs. Right now he was supposed to be getting dressed. 

Some instinct pulled Duncan toward the young man's room. Richie hadn't eaten much dinner, and was very obviously nervous about the evening ahead. He knocked at the door, then went in when Ryan responded. 

Richie was sitting on the bed, already dressed in the dark trousers and white shirt. The necktie dangled from his fingers, and he had a panicked expression on his face. 

"I think I have a fever," Richie said. "I'd better not go." 

"You're immortal. It will be gone by the time we get there," Duncan said with a grin. "C'mon, Richie, it won't be that bad." He gently pulled the young man to his feet and took the tie. With deft moments he had it around Ryan's neck and fashioned into a bow. The cummerbund was next, followed by the jacket. Only then did he step back and look Richie over. 

There was no sign of the street-wise punk who had shown up at his back door almost two months ago. Standing in his place was a good-looking young man who had a future ahead of him. Instead of defiance, a vulnerable look filled his eyes. While still underweight, Richie had managed to gain some much-needed pounds as well as muscle tone thanks to the good meals and the workouts he had been getting for the past month. 

"I think you may need my protection tonight," Duncan said, trying to keep a straight face. 

Richie gave him a confused look. "Why?" 

"You'll probably be mobbed by all the ladies tonight," Duncan teased. "Maybe you *should* stay home." 

A thoughtful look crossed Richie's face. "No, no, I promised Tessa," he said, struggling to keep his tone nonchalant. 

Duncan hid his grin. "I thought that might change your mind. Let's go." 

Tessa joined them in the living room a few minutes later. She was dressed in a dark blue evening gown with long sleeves and a high collar. Her hair was swept up on top of her head, and her new earrings glistened in the light. 

"Oh, my," Tessa said as she surveyed the two Immortals. "I think I will be the luckiest woman there tonight. I will have the two handsomest escorts." 

"Your carriage awaits," Duncan said, offering his arm with a flourish. 

Two hours later, the Scot watched as Richie threaded his way past other groups of art patrons to join Duncan. The young Immortal looked around and spotted Tessa talking to another woman, before asking in a whisper, "Am I supposed to understand these things? Everyone is talking about dynamics and textures and ambience. They just look like paintings and metal stuff to me." 

Duncan laughed. "Give it some time, Rich. The longer you live, the more you'll come to appreciate art." 

A curvaceous blonde dressed in a black mini-dress walked in front of them. A gleam entered Richie's eyes. "Now *that* is something I appreciate. See you later, Mac." He quickly took off after the woman. 

Duncan just shook his head before grabbing two flutes of champagne and carrying them over to his lover. It looked like the night was going to be a success for more than just Tessa. 

***** 

During the next week, Richie ended up working extra hours every day. This worked out well, allowing Tessa and Duncan more time to plan for the young man's birthday. Each night, the two Immortals would work out for a while before returning home and playing chess. 

Richie's confession the prior week seemed to open the floodgates of information from the young man. Each night he revealed a little more of his past. Duncan had a feeling there was quite a bit being left out, but he never pushed for more. When Richie was ready, he would talk about it. 

Duncan began to worry when the weekend came and went. With only three days to go before Richie's birthday, he still hadn't heard from Connor. He would need to decide whether he should give his student a different sword or to wait until he found the perfect one. It wouldn't be an easy decision to make. 

When Richie ended up working overtime again on Monday, he had something else to worry about. What if the young man decided to work late on his birthday? All of their plans were based on Richie being home on time. 

The morning of Richie's birthday was bright and sunny - a somewhat unusual occurrence for Seacouver in the fall. Tessa solved one of his worries when she joined the two Immortals at the breakfast table. 

"Happy birthday, Richie," she said, leaning over to kiss the young man's cheek before taking her seat. 

"Thanks, Tessa," Richie replied with a slight blush. 

Duncan echoed the sentiment as he brought the pancakes over from the stove. He deftly served them before taking his own seat. 

"Richie, because it is your birthday, I have a very special meal planned to celebrate. Please do not be late," Tessa said. "I would hate for it to be ruined." 

A startled look crossed the young man's face. "You don't have to do that," he insisted. 

"I know I don't *have* to. I *want* to." 

"Okay, I promise I won't be late," Richie said, a pleased smile on his face. He finished eating, then hurried off to work. 

With one problem solved, Duncan turned his mind to the other one. There still hadn't been a package from Connor, nor any word about whether he'd found a sword. His kinsman had known how important this was. Duncan couldn't believe that Connor hadn't sent any word. Hopefully, it would be in with the morning shipment. 

Tessa started her preparations shortly after Richie left for work. The first item on her list was baking a cake. Duncan got his hand smacked when he tried to sample the chocolate mixture while she was pouring it into pans. Soon the aroma filled not only the living area, but also the antique store. It made it difficult for the Scot to concentrate when customers came in. He finally decided to close the shop for the day. 

After taking the cake out of the oven, she took off for a while, returning with streamers and twenty-one balloons filled with helium. They decided to wait until after lunch to start decorating since Tessa wanted to use the dining room table to wrap their packages. By the time she was done, Duncan was amazed at the stack. 

"Maybe we went a little overboard," he said, surveying the pile of twelve boxes. 

A worried look crossed Tessa's face. "Do you think so? I wanted to make this a special occasion. I suppose I could save some of them for Christmas." 

"No, we won't do that," Duncan said, coming to a sudden decision. "This *is* a special occasion. He'll just have to accept that." 

"Yes, he will," Tessa agreed firmly. She started gathering up the paper, bows and tape. "Did the sword arrive?" 

"No, it didn't. I'll have to give him one later." Suddenly, Duncan felt the touch of another Immortal. He glanced at the clock - it wasn't even noon yet. Why would Richie be home so soon? There was no way they could hide everything before the young man came inside. The Scot resigned himself to having their surprise spoiled. 

Except Richie didn't come inside. There was a knock at the back door, and Duncan grabbed his katana. Carefully, he unlocked the door, then leaned over to peer out. The smiling face of his clansman greeted him. 

"Connor!" Duncan quickly opened the door. The two Scots hugged before the younger one dragged the older into the living area. 

Tessa came over and gave Connor a kiss and hug. "It is good to see you again, Connor." 

"What are you doing here?" Duncan asked, eyeing the older man suspiciously. The last time he'd dropped by, so had Slan Quince. 

"You asked me to buy a sword - remember?" Connor chided him. 

"I know that," Duncan replied in exasperation. "Did you find one?" 

"It's in the car." He tossed the keys to the younger man. 

Duncan wasted no time fetching the case from the trunk of the rental car. Taking it inside, he set it down on the dining room table and slowly opened it. The katana inside was exactly what he had in mind for his student. Carefully, he removed it from the case and examined it, testing the weight and balance. It was slightly lighter and shorter than his own, and had a black leather wrapped handle, but it had a Matsamuni blade. Richie couldn't ask for much better. 

"I was afraid if I shipped it that it wouldn't get here in time," Connor explained. "So, I decided to bring it myself. I'll just add my plane fare onto the purchase price - not that you'll notice the difference." He smirked at Duncan. 

The younger Immortal knew this quality of sword would come with a hefty price tag, and Connor's grin made it obvious that it had been more expensive than planned. Duncan didn't care, though. He wanted the best for his student. He placed the sword back in the case. 

"You'll stay to have dinner with us?" Tessa asked. 

Connor shook his head. "Tonight is for the three of you. Tomorrow is soon enough to renew my acquaintance with the young thief. I'll check into a hotel and sleep off my jet lag." 

Duncan walked with Connor out to his car. 

"So, the young man showed up, finally," Connor said. "Is he going to be a good one?" 

"I hope so," Duncan replied, slowly. "I wasn't so sure at first. He seemed so bitter and angry. I think if he had continued his lifestyle for much longer, he might have been beyond helping." 

"Well, tomorrow we'll see how his training is going." 

"You'll have to wait until evening. He doesn't get off work until four." He couldn't decide whether he wanted Connor to spar with Richie or not. "He needs special handling," he finally warned his kinsman. 

"I'll be gentle with your little lamb - at least this time." Connor gave him a grin. "You, on the other hand, will be a different story." 

"Oh? Have you been practicing since you were last out here?" Duncan teased. 

"We shall see," Connor replied, before climbing into his car and taking off. 

Duncan went back inside and found Tessa starting to decorate the living area. He fetched a ladder so that he could put up the streamers based on her directions. Between the two of them, it didn't take long to finish. 

Finally, all that was left was preparing the dinner. Prime rib, baked potatoes, steamed vegetables, and Caesar salad were on the menu, with the cake for dessert. Duncan prepared the meat to go into the oven, while Tessa made the salad. All the remaining menu items would take little preparation. 

All they needed now was Richie. 

Duncan couldn't decide which one of them was more nervous. Both he and Tessa wanted this to be a special night for Richie, but there was no telling how the young man would respond. He might take it in the spirit it was meant, or he might let his pride get in the way and consider it charity. 

The wait seemed to be endless. Tessa pretended to read a magazine, but Duncan wasn't fooled. She hadn't turned a page in at least fifteen minutes. He thought he was doing a better job of hiding his nervousness by cleaning up the kitchen until she pointed out that he had cleaned the same counter five times already. 

Finally, Duncan felt the touch of another Immortal. "He's home," he announced to Tessa. She quickly joined him by the dining room table. He slid an arm around her waist and gave her a small hug. A few moments later, Richie came in the back door and walked across Tessa's workshop. 

"Hey, how come the shop's closed..." The young Immortal's words trailed off as he finally spotted the decorations. He froze in place, but his eyes darted around the room, trying to take it all in. 

"Happy Birthday, Richie," Duncan and Tessa said in unison. 

The young man's mouth dropped open, and he stared at the pair without saying anything for the longest time. Finally, he seemed to come to his senses. "You did this?" He looked around again. "For me?" he almost squeaked, pointing a finger at his chest. 

Tessa went over and gave him a quick hug and kiss. "No, we did it for Santa Claus," she said with some exasperation. "Of course we did it for you. It is *your* birthday, after all." She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the table and the waiting presents. 

Richie stared down at the gaily-wrapped packages, but made no move to pick one up. Duncan finally chose one himself, and passed it over to his student. "Here, open it," the Scot ordered. 

That finally galvanized the young man into action. He ripped the paper off the box in almost no time at all. One after another, he opened all his gifts. Most of them contained clothes, including a dark leather coat. Other items including a boom box, some CDs, a pair of boots, and a sketch of the three of them done by Tessa. When he was done, he just stared at the items piled on the table. 

"Well, say something," Duncan finally said. 

Richie looked up at him with a grin. "Wow. If this is what you do for birthdays, I can't wait to see what you do for Christmas." 

Duncan chuckled, but aimed a playful slap at the young man's head, which he just managed to duck. 

"Seriously, though," Richie continued, "thanks, guys." He waved a hand around the room. "No one's ever gone to this much trouble for me before." 

"You're welcome," Tessa said, "but it wasn't any trouble. And it's not over yet. Why don't you go get cleaned up? You can wear one of your new outfits." 

Richie looked over the piles of clothing. "I don't know what to wear first. Maybe you should pick something for me, Tessa." 

She wasted no time selecting a pair of gray slacks and a dark blue shirt. "Here you go." 

"Thanks, Tessa." Richie took the clothes and headed for his room. 

Duncan busied himself by picking up the discarded wrapping paper that was strewn over the floor. He'd just come back inside from taking out the trash when Richie emerged from his room. 

"Come, sit down," Duncan said, gesturing to the living room. Tessa was already curled up on the couch and he joined her there. 

Richie moved over to a nearby chair and sat down. He looked slightly pale and had an apprehensive look on his face. Duncan wondered what the young man thought was about to happen. 

The Scot wasted no time. "I'd like to offer you a job managing the dojo for me. You can live in the apartment above it, and I'll pay for all utilities except for your personal phone. Your starting salary would be $20,000, and we'll discuss raises on a yearly basis." 

"I don't know how to run a dojo," Richie protested, a suspicious look on his face. "Why are you offering me the job?"

"Why not? You're a hard worker, you're intelligent, and I think I can trust you to do a good job." 

"What *exactly* would I be doing?" 

"Basically, you'll be responsible for everything. Making sure the dojo is open on time every day, and closing up every night. You'll also have to be sure the place is kept clean, the equipment is well-maintained, resolve customer complaints, and general bookkeeping - which I'll teach you how to do. As your skills in self-defense improve, you can even start teaching some basic courses. I'll probably teach some advanced ones, as well. I don't want this place to be a ritzy gym. I want to make it a place where people can come to work out without paying an arm and a leg to do so." 

"*If* I do take this job, when will I start working for you?" 

"As soon as possible. There's a lot of work to be done before we can open. I don't have the time to devote to it, but you could. Of course, you'll have to quit at least your day job, although I suppose you could keep your valet job if you really want to." 

Richie stared down at his feet for the longest time. Duncan didn't press him for an answer, letting him work through the offer in his own way. Finally the young man said, "I'll do it on one condition. I won't quit my day job until I pay you back for my bike. It doesn't seem right to use your money to pay you back." 

Duncan sighed. "It wouldn't be my money, Richie. It would be yours. You'll have earned it - no matter which job pays you." 

A stubborn look crossed the young man's face. "That's the way I want it, Mac. Take it or leave it." 

"Very well, if you insist. How long do you think that's going to take?" 

"Just a few more weeks. It won't be long." 

"All right. Actually, that should work out very well. I should be getting possession of the building around that time. There's really not a lot we can do before then." 

"I suppose I'll have to call you 'boss' now," Richie said with a smirk. 

"Of course," Duncan replied with his own grin. "And I'll expect you to show the proper attitude toward me whenever I come to visit." 

"Yes, sir. No, sir. Anything you say, sir." The young man saluted him. "And whenever your back is turned, I'll do this." He stuck his middle finger up in the air. 

"Richie! That is not a very polite thing to do," Tess chided him, then ruined it by giggling. "I think this is going to be a very interesting arrangement." 

"You can say that again," Richie agreed, before turning serious. "I *will* do the best job I can. I promise you." 

"I never had any doubts," Duncan said. "All right, one more gift. I'll be right back." He stood up and went back to his bedroom to fetch the sword. When he returned to the living room, Richie seemed to sense that something important was about to happen, and stood up as well. 

"This really isn't a birthday present," Duncan explained as he opened the latches, then held out the case. "This is my gift to my student." 

Richie slowly opened the lid then, almost reverently, removed the sword from the case. 

"Take good care of it," Duncan said. "Live with it - make it a part of you and it will serve you well." He set the case aside and stuck his hand out to his student. 

Richie shifted the sword from his right hand to his left, so he could grasp his teacher's hand. Duncan suddenly pulled the young Immortal closer and hugged him tightly. They clung together for a moment, then backed away. Tessa joined them, tears glistening in her eyes, and also hugged Richie, before kissing his cheek. 

"I think this is one birthday I won't forget for a very long time," Richie said. "I don't know how to thank you." 

"You just did, Richie," Duncan replied. "Now, then, why don't we get dinner going. Then, afterwards, we can go out for a while. Have a few drinks, maybe do a little dancing. How does that sound?" 

"Sounds fine to me," Richie said with a bright smile, still holding on to the sword. 

Duncan studied the proud young man in front of him. He had a whole new future in front of him. A future they would start building together. 

And hopefully, this time they would get it right. 

Just the beginning....


End file.
